Poem: The Death of Simple Server

The poor masses spluttered around,

Like vines without a support.

They surveyed the fallen iroko,

As a poor lonely child would survey a dead parent.

This iroko it was,

Who was bold enough to nib the festering sore of the mighty.

As a hen will feed her chicks,

He offered them hope and respite.

Because of him they were able,

To drink from the pool of relief.

But while they reviled in bliss,

The mighty plotted as always,

And cut the iroko in his prime.

Oh! How Nigerians will always remember the days of SAS





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Poem Written by Chimeremeze David

for www.romkingz.net

Poem lovers you can contact him using

+2347082171141