POEM/FOR HOW LONG, NIGERIANS? (3)
A wailing wailer we have been tagged,
A howling wind that portends no good,
A creeping nymph that pecks at the bond,
A fissure created, exploited for use.
The country was beautiful we were told,
Utopian and bliss people lived,
Ethnicity just a name,
Unity they bugled with attendant resounding fame.
In lugubrious state we rue the days of yore,
A distant story recounted with smirking mien,
They lived it but no reciprocation,
In hollow wallow we cry, no one try to pry.
A country of yesteryears,
The past more beautiful than the present
Those years might be better than we will hope,
No incentive but man for himself,
Rudderless we become, buffeted by the wind of life.
wow!!! This is beautiful @baboyed1000
When will that dream of utopia become a reality? I believe there is hope for Nigeria
Utopianism is illusory in this clime. We crave with rave for a change, we cry in high wail of rail.