IDP

I'm IDP,
Chased out of my own home and driven to the street,
To compete with vultures for crumbs and carcass of life,
A slave and beggar I have become
On my own fatherland.
My means of livelihood devoured
By the herdsman's angry fire
Who slit father's skull into halves like watermelon,
For daring to stop his cattle from feasting on our yam farm.

IDP is my new baptismal name,
My new badge of shame,
Which I now wear with pride.
I'm IDP, living in a deep ideal pit
 Of pains and misery,
Built by the EXECUTHIEVES to house my own kind,
Who hunger, diseases and lack
Have become their daily companions.

Though the man in green and black camouflage,
Stabs my ears with the gospel of a haven
Offered by his own stick which vomits fire,
Daily I'm stabbed with the koboko of fear.
Not the fear of death; for I'm
A walking corpse awaiting burial.

I'm a decomposing corpse dumped
By the tarred road of daily misfortunes.
With tears-soaked eyes,
I watched my child negotiate with measles for her life,
And counted her kwashiorkor eaten ribs,
While meningitis devour my maidenhead.

In a makeshift heaven of rags,
 And barraging protective guns,
I'm but a ram slaughtered in my sleep at night
On the abattoir of ONE-NIGERIA
By those value their own cows more than my life.
I'm IDP, interred in an ideal pit of eternal
torment,
By those who promised CHANGE
But put me in chains of daily terror
 As my NEXT LEVEL of psychic torment.