Poem: Your Gbara and Our Kurukan Fuga

Crown this Queen as she sits or stands or even runs away with her King.
Close your eyes and feel the warmth of your pounding heart, it knows no sins.

Nowadays everything, yes everything, requires a couple of codes or pins!
So here is a password as you look for the key to success away from these mean people. 

We no longer watch the news, because when we do, we stroke our chins, shake our heads, and wonder what they have against our skin.

It is shallow to state or say that our assemblymen and women were part of your Gbara, the ones those people have thought of nor foreseen.

Even afterward, it’s a number of head shaking, while we hold on to our chin.

Perfection looks good on paper.
But wait, it is only paper…

Yes, vapor. No, you wait, it is full of us.
The atmosphere is full of us,
our ancestors sacrificed their lives, dying of their Labor!

Not everything, yes everything, requires a couple of passwords and pins.
Here is a word that was dedicated to your revival as you look at a way out.

As odd as those uneven obstacles and unknown fears, you have been sanctified. No worries… We want to think that we have no worries or at least there aren’t.

There aren’t any worries to worry about but all we do is worry.

Uncertainty.

Will the media survive if all the news published or posted is good and great?
We no longer watch the news because, when we do, we stroke our chins and shake our head.

Disbelief!

It’s written in our DNA, our greatness just needs to be fully manifested.