New poem titled MISSUS NIGERIA

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Nigeria is like a ripe wife

That is in one garden of

Rose, ixora, crown of thorns

Purple hibiscus, cacti, yellow bush

Flowers that create her fantacies

Cuddle her spirit

Tendering her strength to fluffs

She falls, they claw her

Thronging everyday her whole

Leave! She never might

That garden is grown

Just for her by him

Her husband, her Lord

That she loves him most

And lost her soul, her own mint

Get home to mother

Mother must let you know

How to less thorns and aches

She never might

It is not the fear of your Lord

But the head you bow to mother

To see thyself as her infant

Her child, and from her

Learn humanity again

Learn to visit home and keep it





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