On The Heels Of Spirited Ranters Poem by Oti Egwu

His coming heralded hope
And on ascension, he was our heartthrob,
Our king that will lead not by tricks,
But through strings of adept creed
His reign will bring unspeakable joy
His heart, a safe abode for the people,
His appearance spits elegance of trust,
With him our house would no longer crumble
But soon, his fame wears down to rust.
Now despised by lords of our streets,
He thrived via milky deceits;
And has emerged on the fulcrum of greed.
His dirty legacies breeds smelly agony
And have us staged on vain argy-bargy;
Indeed, we've been played.
Played by the kissers of the blarney stone
By those who loathe our growth
And have spoilt our broth
In a time of a growing rose.
Great talkers are little doers
And can never be practical brewers;
Thus be wise of sprited ranters.