Twittering shadows in lonely subways
Raked with shadowy fingers in the absence of funeral offerings,
Stares of the moon on the highway
Through the hills silence rises to travel,
With fragments of decayed mournings
Over laboured and choked with pangs of hunger.
Demons of poverty lingers
Waiting to punch the crows of daily travails,
Too eager to massage the land
With frivolous smiles and hands,
Hopeful promises now vague
Oozes of confusion has deflowered the land,
And crises are parading like peace makers with good news,
The land is stitched with questions to heavy to carry the mind.
They walk with blood pressure of words and anaemia of deeds,
With sentimental shallow kind of love
While the people are filled with conflicting emotions if survival.
The masters are the servants
While the servants are the masters
Dictating for the masters,
See them stacked like sardine
With dreams in their minds,
For their blessed land trying to find itself.
©copyright: Chibueze Moses Opara aka Mr. Humility
(a Nigerian contemporary poet and analyst)