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I’m a staunch resident in a wild black world
Where there are three strong facets of lords;
One; a master who will ruthlessly incite wars
Two; the rich man, arrogantly flaying the poor
Three; a poor loyal slave who serves them all.
These slaves are tolerant and like table frames
They diligently labor in hardship to earn a pebble,
They are united in their various individual hustle,
Together against each other they fight a battle,
Surviving the though times of endless struggles.
Obi, Sani and Wale are slaves who are able,
In youthfulness and in old; to engage in a battle…
They are bewitched by the lords of the castle
To die to rottenness, they are the Shepherd’s cattle,
While the master and wealthy; foster a noisy rattle.
Slavery and disunity, the game of throwns incite,
On wet woods, wild fire they love to ignite;
East to west they say; slaves have no brother
North and South, they drop stress for them to ponder;
Now the wild black world is replicating this blunder.
As a resident, I hear them emphasize on regilions;
Hatred becomes a love language for all tribes
We inherent vultures that culture us to gain laurels,
Remaining politically selfish and greedy, whereas;
From space, the world offers no diversity of lifes.
The names that runs after fathers and sons
Stinging the muscular and vulgar tongue
Noticed at the rear of identification
Unconsciously my neck swivel and bend
It forbids my legs at a standstill, but move
I dance to the true Africa samba
Whistling and braying sure we know not but heyday
The vixen roast, the ram smells good, the wine is natural
The plebeians’ lives in love waggishly forgetting sorrows
written by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka