You are positioned to grab my crown
And praying that I go down
Now thinking why I spot a frown
Then you must be a clown;
Who had gone round the town
Whatever you reap is from what you sown
Your little tricks, now, are already blown
You can see that you are turning brown
Your consciousness, as you can is overthrown
Try as much as you can I will never let slip my crown
OLANIYI G. AKANJI
© 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem