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What we call government

Bunch of old fools,
Dining on dreams to come
You see.

Is this government?
Union of pregnant men,
Old fools, this country's hope they've swallowed.

We would have been better than this
If not that you don't want to die,
Me either.

No light, No job, No food
A government of Agbada and Dansiki, mchew, hunchback government.

Under trees for education
Potholes you call roads
Death traps for medicals.

We prefer to fold our hands and watch,
You don't know,
If your brother dies today
Tomorrow might be your turn.

What we call government
Is a jest
A bunch of cumbags

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Pls feel free to comment whatever you feel is appreciated Either for the work or the topic all appreciated. I'll keep telling the young men to be strong and watch out for a better Nigeria. There is hope
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


you write of an outdated and ineffectual system of government. this poem is quite compelling and stirs the reader's blood. things are tough all over and knowing that you are in dire straights, makes me sad. keep on writing, maybe some good will come from it. good luck.

*hugs, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

if you keep writing and telling the young men these stories, it will make a difference! I will keep you in my thoughts and hope for a better Nigeria. ~ Geez.

It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
if everyone just shows up at the door, whenever
they have a few free minutes?

I want a better Nigeria even if not now but for the generation to come

always remember to make a critique of other poems
using the hoe is not madness for nothing

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