Blessed Be The Igbo Of Nigeria

It's dawn
but the birds are still hanging on the trees
the moon's just leaving the scene
and the sun getting set to rise
at Tejuosho-Yaba the pulse of Lagos city
a horde of people hurriedly
they woke the slumbering dawn
And set packing the dumb dawn
the seeds sired of the lions of Arochukwu
like a swooping eagles on carcasses
they converged in hundreds
singing the sole song of all marketplaces
many were they
who had a date with their daily fate
blessed be the Ibo nation
the most industrious, ingenious
of the most populous
Black nation called Nigeria.

by ifedayo oshin

Comments (1)

nice poem. bed title!