Lagos Spoke with Me
Descending into Lagos, a swift bask,
Opening of the daylight,
A crowd of shelters, waving in clusters,
Ja ga ba! Ai, mischief has the night prolonged.
The humid air, rotten drainages of the wealthy poor,
Arrayed majestically for the show,
The sun with no mercy hits the mother,
Disabled youths beg in perfumes and rage,
Hunger on the eyebrows that stare at me.
Lagos stood there as if unabated by the rage
The outcry of Mother Earth,
Wailing as an eroded tillage of the ground,
Looking down for inspiration; the green beautiful nature, but what are this human feces,
Though dreams live here, own by the free and bond,. True to the tenacious, brave and corrupt.
My feet stuttered, when,
Lagos spoke with me.
