Gold Not Corpers Poem by Chris Tasie

It seems like a dream
Octobeer 4th is no more a film
Batallion corpers I see
All belonging to Batch C
In one voice they sing and match
Quick match that no one could catch

I stand to behold
The corpers metamophorsing to gold
As they pack their loads
And set forth for the road
Sweet memories like gliters of gold
Then begin to unfold
Flow of tears I could hold
Now grip me like cold

It is still fresh on my mind
How fantastic you were kind
The memorable welcome party
That introduced us to liberty
The plate of rice so spicy
Crowned with a bottle of pepsi

Hospitality and courtesy
I thought belongs only my Mumsy
But kudos to Batch C
Kudos for the legacy

As you draw the curtain
Well wishers are waiting
As you leave the jungle
Remember the follows still in the struggle

You've come
You've seen
You've conquered

Congratulations!
Congratulations!
Congratulations!