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 </div><p>Roused in the heart of night<br>
I sit and stare<br>
Boiling in the rhythm of thought<br>
On this road,<br>
Life lost,<br>
Life saved,<br>
Beauty flies by and by<br>
Pain flies by and by<br>
Hope dashed against stones<br>
Story meshed upon stories</p>
<p>Beforehand,<br>
They pop up like a RAVEN<br>
That fed Elijah meat and bread.<br>
Feeding the myriad of people with wad</p>
<p>Under the gaze of sun,<br>
The throngs aligned on a longish axis<br>
As if money is doled out<br>
To assuage the flared-up sac<br>
There, mopping their perspiring brows<br>
Some pressed in bladder,<br>
Some pressed in the sac<br>
To give ears to the callings<br>
Of the hawkers spicy, relished rice</p>
<p>When the day piggyback its tasty honey,<br>
They fed fat till they ran out of money<br>
The world is there at their feet<br>
Yet, they are sit-tight patriot.<br>
Skinny beggars of dough<br>
Lackey to their school-pundit, Judas Iscariot</p>
<p>Those who paced them,<br>
On the golden throne-seat<br>
Are now confined to a wheelchair<br>
Waiting, on and on<br>
Dancing SHOKI<br>
Painting the street light for gyration<br>
The crabby cries<br>
“Where are the beautiful ones?<br>
Are they yet to be fructified?<br>
Are they still nipping at their<br>
Mother’s nourishing coconut buttermilk?<br>
Or probably still contemplating<br>
On their caravan to the world?”</p>
<p>Oh yes!<br>
The beautiful ones are here<br>
Who play sweet smart in politics?<br>
Who put on the diamond-morning,<br>
Silver sun-smile?<br>
Who paint the sky green and white<br>
Like the Nigeria’s flag?<br>
Who do not give arms to the rustling wind?<br>
He is,<br>
Who surrender to the fear of his Maker.</p>
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 <a href="https://www.wrr.ng/author/martinstomisin/" class="booster-url-link">
 Martins Tomisin </a>
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THE BEAUTIFUL ONES by Martins Tomisin
A school girl holds a Nigerian flag as she joins a parade marking Nigeria's 54th Independence Day in Lagos October 1, 2014. REUTERS/Akintunde Akinleye (NIGERIA - Tags: POLITICS ANNIVERSARY) - RTR48JM4