NIGERIAN LEADERS

(A POETIC DIALOGUE.)

MOSES CYRIL:

The sinister stroll of sorrow
that seems beyond tomorrow.
The pathetic patrol of pain;
footprints with a sad stain.
CHINONSO(SHARPIE:
The pathetic promises
now seen within tinted premises.
Hope now losing its taste, regrets
parading the streets with zest.

MOSES CYRIL:

A Failed leadership;
fall of the Titanic ship.
The poisonous fangs of failure;
there is no seeming cure.

CHINONSO(SHARPIE:

Cure from the ills of lies.
Truth in a corrupt pan, now fries.
A toast to a postponed joy.
For their truth was just a decoy.

MOSES CYRIL:

We are victims of their blunders;
still they seem not to bother.
To them, remorse is just a ghost;
of their evil they boldly boast.

CHINONSO SHARPIE:

Trapped in this quagmire
fear, my closest companion, I hold dear.
Sunrise starts my nightmare again
as I get scorched underneath it without gain.

MOSES CYRIL:

Our help is desperately due.
Waiting on Hope for a rescue.
Only time can candidly heal
the piercing pain we feel.

CHINONSO SHAARPIE:

Karma knocking, we, locked in this time loop.
Someday, we will swim in the sour soup.
Yes, time heals, so they say.
When someday, fate will make you pay