Even during the Theocratic era; citizens suffereth not, now in democracy, equal distribution of dividends have gone messy in my country.
As a Burgher, I’m so bothered…
Radical that I almost became battered
With daily worries cum uprising
Arising from my municipal,
Borough and hamlet.
Where I’m a Burgher
My hope disembowels
For hike confluences force with Yuletide.
Odour emits to abrupt sweet smelling savour.
For my country, I dab!
She idolises power
Misuse, gets drunk and stagger in power
Still…unsatisfied in the belly
And swallow the wages of poor workers.
In my country,
Two infections flows in burgher’s blood like Osá,
Pressures up like Okùn and high blood
Anger; of rulers’ embezzlement,
Suffering in the order of Israelites
In the then Egypt.
As Burghers, we have plenty
Entitled to incentives
Yet, our leaders have chosen
To feed us with crumbs
That fall from their tables.
Tell them.. tell them
Scream to their hearing
We ain’t dogs
We deserve better