The man in fond hat
Imperial in lofty Bayelsan garb
Mild in voice
Walks like he fears
Not to slay the tiny ants
His facade mirrors modesty
With tetchy early days
Of legs lacking shoes
Infused sympathy into sanity
And earned himself empathy
As next to ill crown
With soothing manner
Seized the people’s scruples
Borrowed the masses voice
Wrestled the tiny cabal
That caged clout
Until victory smiles out to him
Within a jiffy
The wolf mirrors its face
Taking off the dove mask
At a time the prey grieves
At this time of all times!
That the humanoid of our age
Veils in holy garment
Stretches inky shadow
Maims in fat figures
Sprays streets with blood
While the masses turn casualties
At this time of all times!
That the masses thirst
Wail, mourn, grieved
The guiltless souls
Stolen by emissary of death
Why this time of all times?
At this time of all times!
That the aged call for comfort
That widow seek companionship
Relatives need camaraderie
Children await care
And the bereaved long for hope
This time of all times!
The wolf shows his ugly face in public
Stands to thrill his appetite
Without pity for the grieved
Gives Greek gift to his preys
Lifting subsidy
From the masses endowed wealth
Drawing out their last penny
For his luxury
At a time the humanoid maims more
Vows to maim all
Even to the wolf’s face
The wolf looks away
Starving the masses to death
Oh, what a lot for masses!
Kudos to the wolf of yester years without shoes!
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