The Nation Poem by Oluwole Olawale Michael

The old haggard motherhood
Would succumb her son's belly
And whisper a song of dignity
But the world'd dance like masquerade's
Covering their eyes with ample of disgust
Bowing low as to worship her deities
Bitterly smothering her sweat sweetily
Knowing the decades of her fears
Let the nation hyjacked emancipation
Emancipation to let go her travails
Sinning is at every man's table
Chuckling Gumbling and Muckering
It remains apparatus to exust
While the nation still swim in her red blood
Drooled faces are nonetheless for lecture
Yet! The old haggard 'hood never pause a while
Now it's stinking and sinking with her old clads
Who will willfully proffer to seize her avalanche?