Walking like queens
With pointed souls
And married to Saturday
Like the bond between
The eye and sleep
Their noses are like that of a rat
Like the eyes of the cat
They see far and near
They smell weddings without being told
Their eyes are bright
Their colours are right
They have no plight
All they do is to write
The name of the bride
So they can lay her off her rights
As a single Knight
They sing without voices
With their pointed souls
Like an angry wind,
They rush to feed their wardrobes with new feeds:
Gowns glorious than the bride’s,
Shoes shining than the sparkling sun,
Bags brighter and bigger than banks.
They clad themselves
In borrowed and credited ostentation
To get eyes glued to them.
They seek high and lofty plates and glasses,
Duly dignified and distinguished,
Which they’ll abandon without a single grain
Or a drop remaining.
Then they’ll leave,
Dropping only few or no pesewas
Cos they own lots and lots of nothing;
They own owes.
The vultures that feed on the living
Through weddings and occasions.
Edem Fodeka featuring Probity~1(Prince Litela Agbemedu)