Poetic-Verses
THE LOW-SIDE SITTING CITY
They wake not like Lagosians
In their drowsy search for fortune
Expecting a miracle dime
To drop into their laps
Eh! A home of hotels,
Bordering the Cameroons,
a town of lazybones
By five, I hear the first vehicle
Pass by my door;
And it's a civil servant's,
In this domestic home
Of licking oil that drips to the elbow.
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THE LOW-SIDE SITTING CITY
THE LOW-SIDE SITTING CITY
