Akungba Igbeyin
Helter skelter the giants run
Tending to get a foetus born
The midwives show no care
Pressed then i with a million minor scare
What a tragedy i recount
Blaring constantly on account
Showing a routine miscariage
Lactating unto a serial rage
The streets clear, the house fill
Home skipped the men on hill
Noise gathers as people shout
Handling cases like a tout
Scrambling about for a piece
Which will breed quick peace
Only the wise can understand
The cards played on sand
So real a tale: the rich also cry
Yet seen world above so high
So clothes cover nudity of all
Encrypting a memory on wall
Surely, saint sun sing songs
Crafted carefully cum clogs
Only with intents to deceive
While his claims he receive
The scenario is universal
But ignorant to non-reversal
To some pessimists, a tragedy
To few optimists a comedy
The hegenomy of great reality
Which builds firm of maturity
Where noise o' silence deafens
And picture o' future threatens
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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