Traps Poem by Garba Inuwa

TRAPS

When running in the bush path
Be careful of broken bottles
Thorns and even debris of
Shattered fire wood

When depicting in a wetty
Forest beware of rattle snakes
Wild cats and black scorpions,
They hold venom that is too
Deadly

When running on the highway
Hold the fear of meeting
On the way to wherever you might go,
They may not necessarily be your friends
At first sight;

First could be men of the under-world
You may detest meeting them on the way
Even in broad day light and night;
They believe not in have-not
There punishment is a merciless death
Even if you tell the sorrowful truth.

When they set up to check everyone
They cut down trunk of every tree
To mend their hold up
They call it check point
Made up of heavy rocks

They possess weapons
Of mass destruction,
Machetes, S-MG,
And MK-47, armed from head
To toe,
Real men commanding
Women to give up all they have.

Next is the friendly checkpoint
Whose fee is so meager and sojourn
If you pay with a smile
They waved you in so easily,

When you refuse them the tip