My Cry Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

I can't imagine the cry ranged from my eyes
Sweeping the floor like a flood.
This non can imagine to be our lot.
Despite all hands on deck for success to make

Non can tell of how fate has thus loots us
Adiye nlagun, iyere nikoje
Can our days at tertiary be a waste?
No, I mean never.

Yet we celebrate the warming ass years after graduation
But their sons a greater hope is laid
While we at this end our strength put them in power
Four years come and gone

Our yoke daily compounds upon our glutton.
That that which laid in us as of the Greek.
We dare not enforce
Gbogbo wa tije dodo akole sododo
This thousand generations will benefit

Less their eyes and consciousness are brought back
No place of refuge to hope in our God
For in all our yoke do compound in their sermons and acts.

Our gracious God we pray you to restore us
As that of the Samaria.


© Olorunleke olorode