The one face theirs, the other Master’s,
Master says smile and serve,
They smile with bleeding hungry hearts,
The room is empty once they’re in:
Deaf, dumb and blind they turn,
Until a clap says otherwise or a bell,
Sometimes, a slap,
Like monumental effigies they decorate a corner,
Of the dinning, in the dinning they served,
Hungry.
Garnished to serve, than for the aisle,
They know the best wine not the taste,
They know the best shoes, in name not feel,
The best juice, never kissed a sip,
They ride the best cars, their feet scared,
Awarded best cooks
Of intercontinental dishes they never ate,
Their noses frightened by the aroma.
When the day folds,
They appear breezing the streets,
In nice rags,
Stopping at stalls for stale goods,
For such, they’re fated fit.
Akinsimoye Samuel (Da Scribe)
#eStreetWriters
@SammieScribe
+234 703 022 6416
sammiejainos@yahoo.com
eBayism School of Thought 