by Omen Gapare
Mr. Clover
All he wore gun belts trapped around his hip
Flexing a button stick whip
Leather thongs bolstered onto his thigh
As he passed by, unnatural odour swept, nigh
I did not pay him no mind
For he jerked pressing his supremacy kind
All that bothered me how he called my name
Belittling the persona whenever he is to blame
Mr Clover
At intervals would look over my shoulder
Wishing if I could lift even the nearest boulder
To show my displeasure
Of the load exerted on me without measure
Still running, cutting all edges like an angry river
deep.
At night took a day’s audit, did shiver and sleep
Rivers move boulders
Egyptians built the Pyramids, boulders on shoulders
Mr Clover
He misrepresented the trinity
Reminded my kind of the ever eternity
Kept in this school till death
Hang on the fool to his wrath.
For years he painted himself white
Until now showing his rite
Preaching man to man marriage
A testimony of the divine miscarriage
Mr Clover!