ABC POEM Written By H. Wanderer

ABC poem

Àwele was wailing
Because she lost her mat
Cynthia tried her best
Digging her à hole
Enough than six of feet
Fitted just to suit her foot
Going to ,without boots
Having no space for two
Indeed Cynthia is good
Just about good as her doom
Knocking her door by broom
Little by little in loss
Mourning her bond per One
Nothing she knew at two
Owing to her fool on cruise
Per cruise per ‘duces
Queueing for a chèque of ruins
Rather than à queue of growth
Still yet à prodigal
Till her shares are shared
Unto thé hands of dries
Venting all on Àwele
Who then is Àwele feat Cynthia ?
X axis vertically,awele lost mat
Y axis horizontally,cynthia hole dig
Z says, Nigeria is Àwele and we are Cynthia.

For
Thé world has lost her sanity
Who Will cure her of her maddness ?

Àwele is a typical Nigeria country
Her mat her resources,her wealth

Cynthia her people

Thé rest you know

H. Wanderer

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