O, I love her
I love her like a fresh scar
I love her like a rotten egg
And daily, freedom from her, I beg
I love her bright morning smiles
I love the woes, that daily, she piles
I love how she strongly loves
Withholding her pleasures, and shielding her curves
O, what a lover, Nigeria?
A name whose origin is Niger area
Decided by stray, foreign lovers
Who are worse than gold robbers
I love the enticing wealth around her waist
Wealth which the west fought to taste
With fire sticks, they held her, and raped
She couldn’t scream; mouth taped
O, she lost her innocence, and became wild
Forced into early marriage like a helpless child
And now, she’s grown and worse
I still love her; it’s my curse.
No comments:
Post a Comment