UNKNOWN STREET CHILD
Clothed in blue velvet,covered with tobacco smoke.
Diaphane of rust;cladded with rustic mats,neglected
to poke.
Endless yawn roused by fires of dispassionate
hunger.
Caught by the lurking wet combs of political thunder.
Fairly fouled,strongly fouled,the wands of
corruptions,covets him. Yet,the band plays on.
Wands of tiny debris,full of debased tastes and rotten
taste buds.
The unknown street child feeds during campaign and
prays it never ends.
Starves in full depth during tenures.
Wailing,bemoaning,yet the band plays on. No one
seems to know.
Engulfed in the steam of hustle.
Often jarred and marred by cadences of rust in
roads.
Dies and buried in the street with nothing.
He now asks:when will I wear suit? Why was I
neglected?
*For children starved to death daily by the
dilapidated Nigerian political scene*
