He had internal injuries, intense blood overflow..
But alas at the hospital, they had no spare bed,
And couple hours later, that little boy was dead...
Being born into a country, still backwards at 59?
Do tell, because I've run out of ways,
To devise excuses, for the many yesterdays...
With fire, our livelihoods out on the street,
When the fireman was ill-equipped, to quench the fire,
And our goods burned out, doomed never to meet their buyers...
To bruise deeply, where he was only meant to heal,
Now our pensions are locked up, in houses forfeited by the EFCC,
Instead of checking our bank accounts, we now stare with grim faces, upon Channels TV...
In a country with supposed freedom of speech,
Yeah he had much, but his sixty seconds of fame,
Now we chant the words "free" as a prefix whenever we say his name..
After publicly hitting a woman, is given an award,
Or yesterday when in vain we cried,
That our leaders should simply mind,
As our brothers, down in South Africa died...
Is it that yesterday, that same yesterday...
Yesterdays are bad investments yes, but today will we earn?
Its now so imperative, someone has to ask,
For you, for me, for us, will we ever be up to the task?
Because ultimately, Nigeria is ours...
He had wealth, family, and lots of room to grow...
But alas he was Nigerian, born and to be bred,
So before he ever lived, that little boy was dead...
#IfWordsWereNudes