Poetry

THE PRESIDENT’S DEAD RIGHT?

He hasn’t been wrong from the truth that is left
It’s true your age is long and so are we.
My father carved a bed only to sleep outside,
If he was the head, he’d call the quit that died.
Don’t conclude soon, The President’s dead right.

Hasn’t the rain flogged you from outside?
it didn’t come from above, it’s our eyes we cried.
You wrote one page, and what of page two?
Will the ink now be different too,
If the President is dead right?
I know you hear about your sun too
he’s gradually shining, very soon darkness will woo.
Should we tell him to fix the clock, the one with no time
And announce we’re in good hands and we would be fine?
if we hear that the President’s dead right.
Tell us dear sir, if the stool is on fire.
You cannot put up a show if death makes you retire.
Ga fillin ga doki.
Barb all your hair, your anus will never be bare.
This seat will say if the President’s dead right.
*Ga fillin ga doki (Hausa meaning here’s the field and there’s the horse)
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