State of Waste

The debris is huge, reaching the sky.
It reeks of stink of a great state
With glories left to die
By men who glorify waste.

Stop the beating of the drums,
Stop the playing of the flute,
Stop this discordant melody,
The grand deceit perpetuated into our psyche.

Yes, we have abundant milk
Flowing in our lands,
But visionless rulers
Turn them into ceaseless blood stream.

Mighty men of strength and passion
Are left to waste in jail or on the streets.
Priceless princess are become prostitutes
In foreign lands and rulers’ bedchambers.

Citadel of learning celebrate dead books
Written by heroes hanging in museums.
Graduates are better only than the dead books,
Just because they blabber their glorified ignorance

Behold the waste in Nigerland!
Behold the deliberate destruction of intelligence!
In my fatherland, dirt is celebrated;
The state of waste is garbed in national honors.

Adebayo Komolafe & Funsho Orimoloye