Dance Of Shame (A Poem By Babatunde Raimi)

Like a Cheetah to a Gazzelle
Our common weath entices them
The game is to win
Even if they spill blood via rituals
And extra judicial killings
For them, a win is a win

With sweetened tongues
They declare their manifesto
Heaven and earth they promise
To a people expectant of a selfless Leader
As a Groom awaiting his Bride

Deceitfully they wangle in
Then, our hands become tied
Like spectators in a football match
Who will save us from them?
Who will lead us to our promised land?

Why do Patriachs lay eggs
And hatch them not
They rape our economy and expect bliss
But they will leave them
Yes, they will
All their ill-gotten wealth
In the midst of their days
For the Word is infallible

Save they return
Their generations will share
Up to their fourth generation
Their acts will be judged
By the one who is just
The Defender of the Defenceless
The Only wise One

We will not only blow the whistle
We will sound the trumpet
And unmask those Masquerades
Masquerading as our Leaders

The stage is set
The die is cast
The talking drum is ready
Right in the market square
We will sing to them
Songs of shame
The revolution starts now!