A Night Fall In Lagos
As the day move to night,
Under bridge becomes shelter.
While business sleep in mansion.
And the owners dwells in barn
While visitors becomes nomads.
Living in the root of the street,
From one condemn car to another.
Living the life of panhandlers.
A night fall in Lagos.
Dark and black, no dawn,
Like the Egyptian's plague.
Ghettos are highly filled up,
While downtown is scanty.
Hotels are elusive and exclusive.
Flashy cars and cribs, no heads.
Warri Stanley
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem