Husband Of The Nation Poem by Folayemi Akande

This game is a chess of life,
Adorned by the stony minds,
Not a child's mere toy to play.

Work and work, is just a strive,
Sweat and fund are strings that binds,
An empty pregnant future,
It's just the steep price to pay
We are laid on such structure.

Capitalists feeds its own,
While the rest are left to groan,
As just a lost flock of sheep,
Found wanting as if a chip.

Politricks, where just are wrong,
And the vains are hailed with praise,
Politics, a gambler's dream,
To sail on such watery stream,
Money is the only song
Solace for their warfare days.

The saint man in politics
Is the one with all the tricks.
We are won by cheap rally
We do not tease and tarry.

We smile to the sufferance
And frown to the sincere truth
All for short exuberance
Later go back to the root.

Let's take the bull by the horn
Make them sweat through thick and thorn
That they may know we are no fools
For the patient dies with time
We don't belong to such schools
We read through the cloudless clime.