A crook brook soaked my booksA Poem by Maclawrence FamuyiwaThis talks about how natural disasters affect both the rich and the poor but with government rather paying lip services to mitigating against it.
Today's rain is more of a doom,
But why not just spare my own room? You just poured in without a shame So, who will then take this your blame? Tho', where I live is a jungle, My life needs not be this bungled, Because this flood was just a lot, This is not just based on my thought. Its' anger was unleashed too pure, Though, not only to us, the poor, Those at Lekki bought their own shares, Their riches brought them their scares. Tho' pained, but not by my soaked book, But by the food I was to cook, They were all soaked by this mean crook, That turned my room to a deep brook. My hunger cried, as the rain poured, Everything swam, as the sky mourned, Hunger came, as salary cried, Debts begged, as the month-end sighed. © 2024 Maclawrence Famuyiwa |
Stats
45 Views
Added on August 6, 2024 Last Updated on September 13, 2024 Author
|