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.
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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
