Eve's Steakhouse Poem by Haruna Garba

Of all steakhouses, who runs the best?
Madam Eve, for sure does just that

Create that classical dish of yours
And here I go buying to feed the face
You are known for your beef stew
So is it with with your sweet fowls soup

Take a look of this sorrowful sight
Typical face of the incited type
Here goes her husband tongue-lashing-
How dare she go for any steakhouse?
Here go her servants regretting-
How dare she vie with a woman of class?

Loss could tum one crazy and it did
Let her catch a glimpse of city guys
And she'd be all over them protesting
Dragged you've me into the deep waters
And nobody would offer their hands

To try to propel one into big time
They were behind this tragic scene
Here is the whole lot growing cold
Man, Is it now stuff for the dumping!
Dogs or vultures on to finding free meal