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146th Weekly Poetry Contest honorable mention: IN NIGERIA II

by [email protected]

In Nigeria A repeated theme dances through many homes, Permanently enthroned to rule over the occupants, To torture the submitting and gullible, To destroy every fabric that holds home and hearth, The bottle, green, brown, The king that rules with an iron sceptre, Dictates when the head leaves or returns to his home, Completely influencing the kind of companions to engage, Those who lure him onto higher levels of intoxication; Hey! Bring more, more bottles here, Serve everyone here, I am capable. And bottles saturate the venue, Intoxication plunges men into an abysmal state of stupor And the king, the bottle, He laughs, loud and hard As he knocks adults around, Full grown adults that do not know their left from their right, Fathers who have lost the ability to set the pace for progeny, They learned from own parents But ignore the succession taking place in their children. Progeny learn by watching, Whatever daddy does must be cool And they play the bottle, Setting up a bar of their own, Their make-believe arena, For their make-believe king bottle To reign supreme; They feign drinks, Get up to stagger and shout, Alas, that is but practice And it makes perfect, Aids metamorphosis into drunken adults Controlled by king bottle. In Nigeria, Go around towns, take statistics Of business establishments, The jaw must drop forcing mouths open At the continuous recurrence of thrones, Thrones set up for none other than king bottle, Whose sole aim turns him into a worm in homes, Causing discord, mischief, disorder,dissatisfaction, Ensuring that the entirety of the next generation is devastated, Given vices instead of virtue Made drunks instead of sober in-charge adults, Undisciplined and unfaithful, A generation that cannot be trusted To foster the human race. King bottle never hurries Gradually recruiting many other sub-kings, Tobacco, Cocaine, Heroin, Tramadol To stagger generation after generation, Until the original super human Lies weak, submerged under pools of drugs, Thoroughly saturated with toxic substances That render him impotent to take decisions And execute decisions that further the promotional cause of mankind. Eyes stand blinded, Ears dulled, That listen to the wooing songs The alluring music that king bottle makes. Until the addiction is fought, Broken and replaced by divine addiction, King bottle continues to reign, Taking marvelous destinies To early unfulfilled graves.

146th Weekly Poetry Contest