Journal Of A Corper



Once again
Our sickness of 4 years
Leads us to the queue
Even as we await our turn
Under hot creeky weather
We wait in vain
Our lives unknown to us in danger
Creek boys are at it again

Influencing our right and choice
But face to face with AK47
Wont you do same?
Line up where they want you to
Thumb print where they ask you to

“Our man must lead again”
They chorus
Determination lined up their faceless faces
The machines look very light in their hands
You must join the chorus or else…………


Serving father land was fun
Attending to them on queue was deadly
“Hey you! Carry the box and paper and follow us”
“To where” I heard me say
Only to notice my legs were off the floor
Besides me stood two heftys
Roughs and Toughs at my left and right

Finally I saw light
For through the journey, it was night
I sat in a large room with mates
All busy doing the work of the queue
Around stood the roughs and toughs with deadly weapons
My Faith failed me
And in minutes I had soiled some choices of the queue

“Hurray, finally a change!”
The jubilation spreads like fire
Not for him but for him
Whatever and how ever
I await my pay

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