A LETER TO MY DEAR COUNTRY.
My dear country,
how are you doing from the bruises
thorns beneath our lips and puss?
I bet the center could not afford
to hold the scars labelled in your
thigh and armpit to alone feel the hit.
Hope romour retains its standalised standard still?
Greet the oppresors on my behalf.
Empty i naked myself before thee
ogle me, a synedoche of Nigeria,
A replica of shattered hope in eden.
Look my country, the vintage life
is denied by authority, whose belly always cry for feast.
My heart has bore enough,
my tears couldn’t tell again.
So to my voice, ceased to talk
so i invite my bleeding pen
to loudly report your children to you.
The green pasture is neglected,
giving hunger upper hand to treat our fuckup.
The faithful ones cannot shake
the spirit that procreate seed again.
Aristocraty and plutocracy has sent meritocracy to exile just to feed their viscous cloggy pot belly
potruding the fat of the embezzled land.
My dear country, money has lost its value. Infact, our madness has gone viral again.
Salaries are now mere change
when planning for the family.
Goods are now gold, seeing but can’t reach out for it cos empty is the pocket.
My dear country, certificate has taken another course.
Education is now an option to the elites for the outcome is always appaling and egregious.
Admission is now casting of lot in the house of the rich.
Just like file transferring only compatible files
what do you suggest we do my dear country.
How far can we go, continuing like this?
Reply me fast lest we perish.
THE BLEEDING PEN
GIANT INK MAKING IMPACT
633 total views, 2 views today