For my country

From the far end
Where I go for a pray
I see a drunken man
Walking along with sore feet
Staggers with
half-naked dreams
Eyes wide open
In dead wind

Unsure of the moment
the night would dawn
Happy at his face
As his bottle hail ever
His good enemy

I see the back
Of the old man’s green
Saddened with deep beards
The ever hailed
Giant of the pub
Choked with gin
Settling for the sands
Of sleep

My beloved nation
He walks his feet
Shot with multiple dose
Of corruption and crisis
Bellied with soft heart and grieve
Seeking for a sweet relief

MO.

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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