TOMORROW KNOCKS FOR A BETTER NIGERIA
AJibade Abdullah A.
In vehicle of recession
Passengers, fueled with bitterness
Driver sigh no rue
My pen ceased not bleeding truth
In the atmosphere of change
Wind blew away happiness
And raped minds
with hunger condom
In the path of no vision
Bestow, tons of regrets
With injured end
Painted no gain
The joseph we await
To resurrect it
The dead economy
The joseph we await
For Tomorrow knocks
For a better Nigeria
© AJibade Abdullah A.
OLOSO (THE PROSTITUTE )
Spare me the ish of living couples’ life,
Cos I’m not in to be a fiance nor house wife.
Please, take me home to pass the night,
And cash money tells if am to serve you right.
Spare me the dead stories of going into marriage,
Cos my tingling boobs still stand and not in old age.
I will not but seduce the noble men and the wealthy,
Cos I’m strong, sweet and healthy.
Spare me those sermons of reading to pass,
Cos I’m so proud of my wagging waist and my ass.
I’m a romantic nature that’s sweet like honey!
I portray this body to cash my cool money!
Spare me those quotes that are full of piffle lines,
Cos my sexy physique carries face that shines.
Come near to have my warmth embrace and caress,
But set me free from serious field, not your business.
Spare me the weak words of courage,
Cos this path is so enjoyable with myriad advantage.
I earn more with my curvy styles and groaning chants!
I scream more when willy runs through my wetted pants!
Tell me not about the ruffian storm of hot kisses
Cos it produces deep feelings that sound like long hisses.
Stop the costing summaries of my Brazilian hair,
Cos it’s the crafted color of all time big girl.
But, what if the end time comes near
and grab my faint heart with fear?
Would you tell me why my standing breast is flat like a tyre?
Why my luring neck is long like a wire?
Why the lecturers have failed to make me a treasurer
Why my results laced with many carry-overs
Would you tell me why these wealthy men cannot come to my aid?
Why they paint me with a gory color of HIV/AIDS
Why my figure eight fetched me a disgrace?
Leaving a trail of tears on my cheery face.
Would you tell my mates in higher institutions
that a known perish route is to venture into a prostitution?
Let this be borne of pseudo dreams that would never come to pass.
Let’s all be a promising girl that would never trade a ass.
© Busy Brain
LET’S GREET THE SUN
Let’s greet the youthful sun that
rolls the mat of our suffering before
the night rain visit our spreading sin
Our joy is born with faith and hope
We’ve seen the moon put on a smile,
his bed, flowered with a breezy dawn
Our noses have smelt yet another year
full of love and they said the sun did it
Season comes and goes but we remain here
We can’t eat our food raw when the sun
remains the pride of which we stand for.
© John Chizoba Vincent
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