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Fifty-nine shades of green

I know of a Nation celebrating fifty-nine
An aftermath of tears, especially mine
Daily, multitudes run away, even foetus will
Rebuke the Nation as if it were the Devil’s kill.

Obviously, this is Nigeria, anything can happen
Every independence day, makes me saddened
Evil that men did in the past is always reborn
Why wouldn’t flowers wither when the Sun is gone

Hate or love it, I’m a Nigerian to the fullness
It is not that I love the pains and the darkness
Neither is it that I can not run away but I got to know
That Nigeria is a marshmallow on many roles

Getting into the characters played by the politicians,
You and I who live lawlessly, taking a chance
Sunset and sunrise, tomorrow will be better so I feel..
No matter how thick our blankets impeding growth may be

We will one day, wake up to see we arrived
Into a city of our dreams and our strives;
Rome wasn’t built in a day, let’s get to it
And abort the years of pain, so Nigeria will be great.

Happy independence day! Nigeria

Http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Finding tracks

We are in abundance
Yet we complain of darkness.

Inside pits, that are shallow;
We hide behind the shadow.

Our melanin we pour ore
Under the hot scorching sun;

Hot-cakes fly like birds, to lands
Where they can be better brands.

Leaving behind, the half baked
To dictate, the give and take,

Talking; whereas, as critics
We bury the beams and rays

Yet we beg for candlelights
From the waxes we burnt out.

Http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Nigeria: Poor black mind

Hope growth is not an hallucination
How did the Whites become diabetic
Economically well structured and nice
Whereas blacks lags; now we auction
Selves, for slavery; legal or illegal
Under the weather of milk and honey.

The internet has become an office
While our gods accepts sacrifices
Kids nowadays cling diabolical ways
Extorting money from folks abroad..
The painful part is, men truly legit
Are but now the riffraff in town…

My country is drying up not because
She fell on the largest of cradle beds
Nor because her leaves and stalks are old
But because she has solely refused
To keep muds far from pigs while trimming leaves
And growing the grey hairs of wisdom.

No metaphor or synedoche can hide
The bad governance these lands have
Hello! are you proud of our sour soups
Yes I am proud to be called an African
Yes I am proud to be called a Nigerian
But I hope my children don’t end up like me.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

The green trip

Born a black man on a dark soil
Made of green and white folks
With two horses at shield side…
Blessed with gifts of prophesies
And all my dreams come to pass.

Many of us, sat at the bus stop
Patiently at the finger of God,
Deep inside my dream last night.
We were not tribal heading for
The land of great opportunities.

Out of the blues, came a train
At the hour of five o clock…
And thousands choked themselves
Into the tightly filled long train
Which later moved in a snail pace.

I continued my wait for a bus
Though expensive, in recession
But trip to Lagos, was worth it
Hours later then came another train
Leaving Delta towards opportunities…

I came on board with a hundred
As against the bus of thousands
Along distance from south south
Not only cheap but safe and fast
To the land of milk and honey.

This train was the unusual type
It traveled twice as fast as light
In the dream I saw an African rail
And I woke up so optimistic
That my country, will soon be great.

©2017 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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