TORTOISE BACK Carry me
From your cracken back
Handle me with care queue me in your democracy
Were your back never touch earth.
Then I tighten my pant
With plantain skin
Don’t carry me
Instead I carry you on mine
With pride.
You are my father for a reason
But why you rebel me?
In front of your grand children; twins
Niger and Benue
A boy and girl
You are my father for a reason,
When I saw your face at the rock
And you are steering at me
With tears, down your chicks
And on earth it pours.
Carry me
On your cracken back
To her sick bed
Let me see her-my mother
To embrace to hear her
And drop my sticks
Even if the earth cracken
And swallow us all
We will say to our self
It a good-good flair.
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