By
Ngozi Olivia Osuoha
The Girl Child II
Yes, she is just a child
Left; she grows wild,
Nurtured; she becomes great
Though with much sweat,
Maltreated; she gets shrunk
Unguarded; she gets sunk,
This is the time to act
Let us make a huge impact.
Today, she is zero
Sure, she must be a hero,
Guide her through teen
Help her become Queen,
Give her the instruction
And avert her destruction,
Otherwise we all shall regret
If we lose this golden target.
Pick her from the garbage
And stand her on the stage,
Teach her to read and write
And make her; attraction site,
Take her to her Creator
He will make her an author,
Help her with breakfast
Encourage her to be steadfast.
THE GIRL CHILD CAN CHANGE THE WORLD
YES SHE CAN!
The Stinging Scorpion
Songs of politics
From sons of polities
Timbrel of discord
Trumpet of lies,
Drums of deceit
Gongs of falsehood.
Dubious intentions
Greedy desires,
Selfish manipulations
Evil enchantment,
Foul incantations
Poisonous ceremony.
Vipers and vampires
Adders and anaconda
Beasts and monsters
Celebrating and feasting
A college of scorpions
A collage of venom.
Trump The Trumpeter
Time to scrub
The whole mob,
And mop
Each drop.
Time to jump
And plumb
Those that rob
And make them sob.
Time to lob
And stop
The windy club
That broke the limb.
Time to pump
And really pomp
The tender lamb
They made to limp.
Time to bomb
And equally bump
Every lump
And dump;
The crude dumb.
Time to comb
Pick the crumb
Cut the crap
Direct the crab,
And drive the cab.
Time to chop
And clip
The chip,
By the throb
And weighty cop.
Time to lift up
The holy cup
And feed bob
For him to pop.
Time to snob
The cub
And hub
In the bathtub.
Born; the grump
That would help Trump
Make numb
The noisy womb
Or dig the mass tomb.
Trump, the trumpeter
A composition of melody,
Hope it ends in harmony.
