Billy Pauper Poem by Alexander Onoja

Some where in the middle Belt,
lived little Billy pauper.
Born without a silver spoon,
just one made from rusted copper.
Holding a grudge with the man on the moon,
unable to express the anger he felt.
He abandoned all fears and regrets,
and followed his studies.
Amid the scorching sun he followed,
amid nobility's cursing crowd.
All the insults thrown, he swallowed,
still feeling very proud.
He fell in love with the mat he slept on,
that drew fine lines on his back.
Amid the stumblings, he carried on,
along a blind and fearful track.
Ignoring the empty stomach he carried,
ignoring the rumpled cloths he wore.
Ignoring life's drizzling burdens he carried,
'i will not die a pauper' he swore.