By
Ngozi Olivia Osuoha
SOURED SOCIETY
From the base of crudity
Slept we in nudity
On the floor of primitivity
Dined we with adversity
Helmed through by poverty,
There was no pity
For dark was the city,
In place of fraternity
And a little charity
Turned we to barbarity,
As we launched into puberty
At the dawn of maturity
Then the freedom of atrocity,
On the wings of audacity;
Flew wild our dignity
Together with integrity,
Under the laps of virginity
Anchored the slave of stupidity
That buried our fidelity
And freed his brutality
As though a dynasty
That, ignited his popularity
Which deformed our creativity
As we wallowed in insecurity
Erased openly our identity
Hid deeply our ability
Published our infertility
Established our immorality
And turned us a SOURED SOCIETY
THE SACRAMENT
In this our regiment
We are the government,
In this our settlement
We go for enjoyment
With equivalent judgement
Shaped in engagement;
Painted as achievement,
Hence in disappointment
We rage for upliftment,
Racing toward retirement
We grab more allotment
But truly no entertainment
Despite the ornament
That remains the wonderment,
We refrain from development
Building on discouragement
At the grave of encouragement,
Which binds our empowerment
As we crave for enhancement
It yields only punishment
Perhaps during refurbishment
Beyond each establishment;
We see madness and torment
Then we steadily lament
Yearning for amendment
Praying for enrollment
But that kills the moment,
Darkens the firmament
And captures our atonement
Which blasphemes THE SACRAMENT
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