The Soul Of My Country Poem by Tony Adah

Putrid the soul of my country
Like a sore on an orphan's leg
Lame its leg walk
Busy its hands plundering
Its eyes sharp as the owl
And like a cat its ears attentive
To the noise the commonwealth makes

Young men walk about hungry
But in great aqueiscence to the hunger
They move on with brief cases
Where Lie their homes and offices
And the soul of my country stinks
Stinks from the road puddles
That frogs and toads have made their abode
Stinks from the lot consigned
To a lakadaisical leadership
That leads to golden pauches of the affluent few

The soul of my country is a rotten corpse
Mangled by a swarm jubilant flies
Feasting on grafts and nepotism
On the rivers that run with liquid gold
They struggle and splatter with cans and barrels
To plunder the commonwealth.

And my country stinks
Stinks like yesterday
Like today and I wonder
Who will extinguish the inferno
Ragging in the land.