Greyish Dreams Poem by Ben Chukwuemeka Okere II

Have our youths gone beserk?
Has Holiness escaped from its tomb of
Human race?
Why does the grey's dream of glory,
Fade in a jiffy?
While evil rip our wisdom like a ninny,
We queue, the queue nature doth brought,
But with all no lasting edge.

Have we forgotten our endless dreams?
Have the dirt of this four-walls stained,
Our greyish dreams?
Oh! What face will justice put on
When her wigs are worn without honour?
Oh! How injustice will leap when her tax box
Will be filled.

To the Blessed thermis, our lady, your cries,
Surely, shall be worthless without tears,
For thine reps I see without dignity.
To the unique scales, your measurement,
Surely, shall be without value
For thine stronghold, I look with pity.