Revolution Poem by Kayode Ogunleye

And so it came to pass after the death of many saviors
That our soul is being tormented and viol
We are like the woo-pee butterfly
We are left with two options
Dancing and drinking with the fire on our head
Perhaps playing the music, but refuse to dance
And so we are digested, confuse and agonize
The trauma is being blown
Nothing is to be done
The targeted calculated movement is
Being destabilized and restricted
Tomorrow is far gone
Here comes today approaching
Like a gentle man disturb
Something must be done verbally
The music is far approaching
The dancers are all gone
Super, superior, superfluous
The music dance itself
The cry of the poor not being heard
The wisdom is being despise
Something is about to happen
Steadily, steadfast, surely
Our trauma will be forgotten
The targeted calculated movement
Will resurrect
The vision will speak for it selves
The dancers are all returning
All being accompany by the music

Written & compose by
Ogunleye kayode
20th –April-2009