"The Gunmen of the Governor"
I know a certain clime where
Red Skulls stare from tall poles
Oblivious of the blind rage of the wind.
In that clime,
The Red Skulls sponsor shiver in all it overlooks
There, even the simple walk with their tongues in their pouches.
There certain men roam about naked and unstained by shame,
They wear their instruments of peace gainly
As a Yahoo boy, his Gold chain,
Nobody dares call them to their offices
Shhh! not even the honourable head of Government.
They tread the streets at all hours of the day
A gift enjoyed by those
with the blessings of the Governor.
Their portfolio soars high above Arch oba Simon,
Woe is he that makes their ministerial list
He would have wished he never saw day.
This clime I whisper of,
Wear your lips properly while on its paths,
Because also in suits and ties are "the Gunmen of the Governor".
Eneye Lawal.
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