Joel Audu
A tavern for plenty faces
‘Cause of its neighborly treats
A liveliness obsessive
The street,
As old as the old
Witnessed many rites
Lessons it taught about life
Tortured boys into men
The street,
Violent winds with odium
Legion’s podium distribute
Professing creeds not breeched
Wielding deadly wands
Inebriating devotees’ mind
In the street,
Liberating shallow-minded clubs
Legions brandish
Fighting for their ways
Innocent foetus and womb ripped, incinerated
Sanctimoniously
The street,
Abandoned in reckless
Hangs on a pang
Forever in painful disdain
The legion’s wrong
Sharing discord in street’s accord
The street,
Bore a sore
Its stench lifelong
Hardly forgotten
Yet still unforgiving.