The Place

There’s a place full of shame
Where only power is their aim
They all get involved in corruption
They almost ended education
The Christians cry, why?

The sun sets over the bald leaders
Most of which are not even readers
The blood of the innocent are shed
Sometimes my heart even bled
The Muslims weep, why?

On the seats are fake high chiefs
Most of which are high thieves
They lick their hands of honey
And take away others money
The pagans sob, why?

Salaries are hardly ever paid
But campaigns are always made
All we ever heard was noise
Making fake promises on top of their voice
The idolaters shed tears, why?

The elections were done
But we never became one
Nothing seemed to have changed
All of the citizen’s hands were chained
The old men begged, why?

Most of the kids dropped out of schools
They grew up to become fools
Their lives were locked up in a well
We only heard a warning bell
The pensioners die, why?

Our leaders ate and drank
While we cried and sank
Most of us were drowned
While our leaders were crowned
The children too scream, why?

Our brothers and sisters die
To abroad they always fly
We started looking dirty
While they were worshiping a deity
We wished for death, why?

While we were stricken with poverty
Our leader had a pot belly
Our mothers were selling yams
While their breakfast were always rams
They weren’t struck dead, why?

Our bitter eyes were swollen
Our leaders were all dulling
All we could do was pray
That none of us would become a prey
Our lives shattered, by who?