by Sunday Akonni Moshood
CIVILIAN TO POLICE
Hey, non-prestigious friend!
You clad in dark uniform attire,
Glued to your gluttonous body
Like a bird to its feather!
As you parade in the lazy pride it gives,
It sour scent troubles civilians stomachs!
“Police is your friend!”
You chewed and spat the lofty words,
seeking undeserved handshakes!
But you never uproot it true meaning.
You are no different from a garage tout!
On illiteracy game you topped.
In ignorance pool, you swim to victory!
You denied rights in guise of hearty servitude,
Slapping, dabbling, and pushing the weak about.
Steep in irresponsibility, you are!
“Call 911”; you broadcasted,
to be deemed indulged in civilians affairs,
You never did!
When invited in crisis,
Phone quarrels with network,
And the outcome of the matter,
Leads to weeping for civilians.
You only appears when it’s calm,
To maim the innocents for prove!
Once civilian turned terrorists by khaki,
Your gun is your flaw!
You gun civilians dead to prove mere points.
Denied their rights by a tool of protection!
Yet, you complained of bad salaries pensions,
But pried bribes from civilian pockets,
And loan arms to evil ones.
Such a wicked man you are!
But listen, as times passes by,
Sure it would turn this plight of ours for good.
Wherefore civilians would retain rights,
And pocket them all where they go.
As cricket chirping undisturbed,
Then rights would outnumber guns!
Civilians! Oh civilians,
What are my deeds,
To be slashed with lashes of your tongues?
How did I deserved this,
To be stabbed at the back?
And tagged an alien amongst my own people.
You un-patriotnize me,
In front of the world,
With widespread false words.
Those words traveled to white men islands.
And like an expectant tourist,
The world wants to interrogate me!
As if we aren’t same kins,
You outcasted me: a rebellious knight.
The bribery scandal isn’t my fault,
Am not the originator or cause.
It erupted from the head top:
Aso rock, where they dwells:
They corrupted masters of the colony!
Their traits spread into me:
I’m drunk of corruption!
It’s intoxicating me with greed and desire,
And I may not oblige for thousand years!
Maybe I’m drunk; I’m sober in reality.
I’m once a civilian!
You despised my gun,
Ignorant of the power it yields!
That gun gives power and pride,
But those who live by it die by it.
Besides, those mistake shots aren’t my fault,
But your uncultured manner staged!
Besides I wasn’t trained it wrath
Before I was ordained a cop!
But listen neighbors:
My pride is my weakness.
In sobriety, my conscience bites me.
I’m not enjoying this game anymore,
Because hidden facts dwells beneath that khaki.
Civilians! I loved you as myself.
And I promised to turn a new leaf;
Sunday Akonni Moshood is at email@example.com