Mere Men Poem by OMOYAJOWO OLAOLUWA

In the tabernacle of sorrow, yet they smile
Some are empty yet they move
In the agony and acrimony of honey tears
Yet they say I am living
They clean up daily, yet they are dirty
In the treasure of the circle they lie
Always wanting to keep the monkey from the door
Yet they are intruders
With negligence they call themselves rulers
In sky they look and feel no blue
Yet in them a point of controversy
Counting it in seconds, some minutes
In hours yet you talk and never walk
In days they date in open gate
In weeks they are week, in months they are moths
In years they have no ear, what are you!