Coat Shirt And Tie Poem by Michael Eziudo

A snore... one more snore... and 4: 30 a.m it is and alarm goes
Head jacked up, and then lift the unwilling bones
Those knitted together by your weakened fleshes
And grudgingly they go kra-ka-ka-ka
The stretching continues in the bathroom kra-ka
Grudging because they know they'd still come back late anyhow
Creature, where goest thou
When your body a little more needs to lie
Now off you go in the rush with a faded coat covering the emblematic epileptic shirt and tie
All that take you three months wages in allowances to buy
Not a moment to commune with your body, and spirit your strengthener
Not one with your family, and God either

"Go to school to study hard to graduate and get a good job"
Remember the lines?
They were your favourite lullabies and blab
And "Good grades for better employment" were your teenage funk
You heard them all against your wish like you were an apprentice monk
And your mind followed the codes that gave it a terrain like a plant after light
And in deed here you are at last
A college graduate
Unwinged by the desire for good white-collar opportunities
Ones that belittled your chances of seeing the gold in handcrafts and soiled dresses

But you entered into the world of documents andsignatures and referees
Where month-end is your power of bargain and your taste and time to test chosen for you by your salaries
And "Yes, sir! " keeps you roaming the offices like confused coward for years
With nothing written down for pension as savings
Yet you beat your chest proudly to say, every year,
"I'm building a career"
I ask, when will you roof it?
Please do before the storms pay you a visit

Train your child the way he should go
No employee is richer than his employer, no!
Incomes and renumeration should be things of choice
Born out of the desire for servitude and mastery in pursuit of excellence
The labor-force is too heavy for the market
Don't come and add your load to the basket
Go to school to learn to create
Not to be moulded for the employers' eggs a good crate
You'd die living from his waste

The world is a bigger parastatal than your office, officer
The sky is large enough for every bird to fly, you hear?
Don't cage anyone's dreams
And don't let anyone narrow yours
The world is the problem that you are a solution