POLISHED FOR PROFIT

Polished For Profit

http://www.facebook.com/WRRPoetry [Polished For Profit]

Don’t say a Farmer
Loves his fowl
Instead –
He loves himself.

Because he comes
Around with corns
To spread along their lawn.

With water cans.
And grains of kinds
To feed his fowls at dawn.

And coloured drugs
And injecting ‘cines
To fatten his tiny things.

Cage is for shelter.
Lamp is for weather.
Armed dogs to curb robbers.

I don’t need the farmers’ Love
O’ yes –
That is no Love.

All he hopes
Is for a fowl
Worth a huge sum.
To buy himself
And not for them
A very big mansion.

I don’t need the farmers’ Love
O’ yes –
That is no Love…

All he hopes
Is for a fowl
Blessed with less of bones.
To eat with friends
And take delight
Among his kith and kin.

Don’t say, don’t say
He loves his fowls
Instead –
He loves himself…

Love me
And don’t expect pay.
True love
Is all I say!

Written by: Poet Adelaja Ridwan Olyrid
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

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