On mornings fraught with laziness
I see them.
Lazy youths warming up for the day
Working their asses off just enough,
To eat for the day.
The lazy youths of my country
Are the truck pushers, in the heat
Of the sun.
What about Ifeanyi
The one-legged carpenter?
He's so lazy that he works on his bench
Limping from one end to another.
Sometimes I wish I could be half as lazy
As some of my contemporaries
Who work and feed from hand to mouth
What a lazy youth I am!
What then in this whole wide world
Could warrant such a gaffe by a bigger being
Put on a throne by these lazy lesser beings?
In lieu of protection, he cast them aside like bins
Plucking several chords of pity and shame
Jolting a conscience beast which harries me
And outside these borders, defacing a name
