THE COUP THAT COMRADES DO

Restlessly we marched
aggressively on the soil
like wounded soldiers-half heroes-
waiting for the sun to shine
to smile to the world
and bid as victors do
or so we hoped
hoping we dont hope in vain

Fruitfully in row
like paste or pudding
flavoured with sweats
and bloods
prepared from raising agents
to take lead
through our mentors lead
that fiercely as sparks
we can gravitates.

Painfully we fights
with words
and voices
against oppression
and frustration
in a chain circle-
held tightly by Executhieves
and Legislathieves
who are elected thieves.

Close to victory.

Betray.

My father warned
about a struggle
called humanity
and the things
its actors do.

We can labour to dusk
We can push to end
We can… We can…
We are dreamful Comrades

Aye!

Their fathers warned
about a craft
called comradeship
and the evil
its apprentices do.

We are indivisible
and so we pledged-
with the hope to win
in ‘espirit de corps’.

Our fathers warned
to beware of ourselves
that man could be evil
if man could be devil.

Somewhere while we dreamt
Sometime while we plan
A coup is birthed
with half-baked Comrades
flavoured with no sweats
or bloods
with no words
or voices
with low bid
for sunshine
and high bid
for rainbow.

We’ve failed
not because we failed
but we’ve failed
for the evil
of some comrades
deep within us.

While our hopes
are murdered
with daggers
of stale conscience
far-away in Disney Island
are among us- men
sharing the fruits
of our struggles
with foreign wines
and cheap accolades.

I long heard the whisper
forth-nights ago
that the coup
that Comrades do
only makes the Patriot suffer!

-Akolawole Shoremi