I welcome you all to the wrong planet.
Where terrorist is our Minister.
Protesters blood littered like allotted Janet.
Soldiers killing cycle in a dot;
But runs like an Argentina horse at the sights of parasitic bandits.
North central gave birth to a clown child called Bello.
We have been bewitched;
By an old-sick-thinkless President.
We are patiently waiting for a new sun to rise.
Like a ticking London clock.
A sun of hope for all our compatriots.
We now dine with hunger and joblessness;
Like a picture in a frame.
As a love between a bride to her groom,
So is our lack and joblessness.
A government who created nothing;
Destroying everything we built.
How can we feed others;
When we cannot feed ourselves?
The beauty of our adventure,
Is our only hope for a better morrow.
A tomorrow we are not really sure of.
No one is safe till we all are safe.
From hunger and joblessness.
Death meet us everywhere,
We get kill everyday.
Our government rewards our killers;
With a bad child called amnesty and cash gifts.
Does terrorists believed in repentance?
No, they are vampires and vultures,
Seeking blood of our compatriots.
Writers now scare of writing our pains.
I am a poet,
My ink may not flow when I die,
Just like Shakespeare,
Poet do not die;
Even in death.
My poems shall live on.
Such is the beauty of our heartbeat.
Such is the beauty of our collective move.
Though, some moving to eternal rest,
Through a gateway lock eternally abreast.
If we speak not,
We all shall untimely become ghost soon.
® Sir Prince Ojoka
©princeojok
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