Morgue Of Correction Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

Seated upon the roof
Looking round edges
While Singing that song to stay aloof
As one can't undo that which is done from ages

We look around,
setting the eyes opened
To see rain beat us in folding hands
Not that our skin is accustomed to been suffered
But the kicks of the belly sabotage us to alms

It's our duty to correct before sending you forth
So they said
Yet packing our beloved in their net
Awaiting the scale to be weighed

Bail after charge is for the swift
While the unlucky enjoy a soft trip to the Morgue
Neither the registrar, orderly, or prosecutor are left
In this that our beloved are being put through

How best will it be for bail perfection not to last a day
And the cause of justice be determined in ernest
For our correctional center is off the bay
It's a Morgue of correction to death

Yeah a Morgue of correction.

Standing or awaiting trial means no guilt
Until trial is stretched and judgement pronounced
Says the law of the land

Why the sitting on the floor
Denial of accurate accommodations
Starving the innocent of the law
Denial of good health facilities

The questions, not only for the government
But also for the servants

How best is to be on this journey
And become a changed person
Not later a culprit seeking for mercy
This is our world and the stage we've been

Hear me oh divine
To save the soul of the innocent from death
That they know their fate so soon
The convicts have change of heart
And warders know the law and calling.