Oke Olumide Poems

We are the men
Born to the slum
And dwell on the street
We eat in our broken plates
...

Cloud clear and deem bright,
Sun, glittering with its cool light,
People gathered with merry- minds,
Like traders in market square
...

This is the end of the road,
The journey of tears end,
So many gallops and potholes,
Left unfilled forgetting tomorrow,
...

If we must die,
Of this cruel forces and injustice,
If we are powerless
To prevent flaws of this laws,
...