What lies under the bundle,

Might not be for our sight;

Until we burst out with trouble,

We might not see the light.

They cover up all their odd deeds,

For our eyes not to behold;

Our minds they always toy with,

For them not to unfold.

How long do we grumble?

Not that but real action,

Can make their acts to tumble,

If we really want to sanction.

The broom when bound together,

Sweeps every single crumbles;

Let’s come as one as brothers,

And make their plans to rumble.

Julius Akinlabi

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