Writer: Ashaolu Temilade Ajagun


I climbed the top of the highest mountain
To behold what I could behold;
I saw my fellow native men ,
Living in disaster.

I climbed up even higher,
To embraced the open heavens;
Murder, death and bloodshed,
Appeared before my sight.

I saw the ruling powers,
Powerful wars and conflicts,
I perceive the problem of the nation
Standing with an overwhelming ovation.

I saw hungry children,
Here, on our native soil;
Only the rich grew richer,
Thriving on the wealth of oil

On my native soil
Greed crept upon the land with a stronger say
And like a thief in the night;
Our liberty was taken away
To strengthen their own might.

On my native soil
Those who fought in wars,
spelled victories in defeat;
Many returned as heroes,
Only to Walk on the streets.

On my native soil
Social security became famished,
While terrorists stalked their prey;
Children spat on the aged,
And the clear skies were turned to gray.

On my native soil
I saw exchange in power,
But no yield in government rules;
I saw technology feasting on the obsolete
And our economy were stolen by fools.

On my native soil
My fellow native men
Still wanders with their rhetorical question;
Am I still a native son?

The Poetic Prophet
06:01:2021 @ 09:28
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