Nigeria Thou Art Still Poor

Nigeria thou art still poor!
By Mike Williams

I bless thee in ways the world envy
I swallow disaster to keep thee clean and safe
I green for thee with grace like a greens world
Thy fruits like milk and honey in a fairy’s world
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

I broke all laws to set thee apart
Thy land I blend with tit and tat
Giving thee my all like my first born son
With youth and vigour the son of my strength
Thy wisdom and beauty a gift to spare
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

I craved the creator to enrich thy strength
My treasure in thee abound like dell
Each hip and dig with no stress it grows
Yee move as far and conquer at will
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

Sickness and disease a thing I chase so far from thee
Except the ones that thy hands has caused and dragged to thee
The air in thee like a balm to the soul
The weather I clothe thee is like a tonic to the throat
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

The world yells out and cursed at me
They spit and shit on me all because of thee
Saying I am bias to give thee all that life could ever need
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

If only yee could learn from the ant a treat
No hands and eyes but yet they strive
The West Coast a place, so tiny a land
The love they share make it all go round
With love they exist as one in bound
Unlike yee that I have blessed with all there be
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

I am tired of the cry from the throat of the stoned
The innocent blood like a rain of flood
The civilization and fame I give are all turned against me
I know how much I strive to be with thee
The regret in me is as sore as the sting of death
For day and night am blessing and feeding none as thee
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor
If the men in white could but have these grace
The treasures and grasses I give to thee
Heaven will be an invisible thing to see
For they will make heavens all in thee
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

I am the land that lifts thy mighty heads
The hand that feed thy soul and mind
It hurts to see my effort in vain
For I have done all that’s left to do for thee
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

I increase all that Yee give to me
A hundred folds for thy sweat under the sun a heat
The cloud so kind, a friendly stare
That all the plants whine and blossom till they touch the sky
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

Day and night I drink thy bitter blood
Innocent blood of the destined for greater changes
The cries and tears that fills the air
Makes me wonder if I am no more the one who made thee to be
Giant of Africa but now what a little pitiful dwarf
Servants walk on thee like a tale of slaves
With all thy stars a great sight to see
Thy borders a wide horizon like the ocean with spreading wings
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

If only thy mind could bear my first law to thee
That which I taught and read to thy ancestors from Greek to Greek
They kept and grew and so you see
Love is the only key that makes life to be
But of all the abundance I rest in thee
Yee murdered love and befriend a selfish lust
With all yee have stained with blood Oh! Blood of peace
So proud thou art like a foolish flood
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor

My ears are full, full as a foolish fool
I shout to the sun, moon and stars to rest down a stool
That they may know my stomach runs with stool
For I only give thee these for the love so great for thee
More than other parts of me I deal fairly with thee
Yet Nigeria thou art still poor