Slavery Advocacy Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

Loft in my heart do dwell,
The pregnancy of this journey of a year.
Which my country has cloned me to dwell.
After several years in the institution with the last praise to bear.

Green and white like the 50 naira men that stop us on the way,
We are found to be.
Our fate is laid in the hand of those whose spirit sincerely fail to pay.

Could this be a scam of an ancient tribe?
Yet many through SAED their lives know no struggle.
While in the advocacy of right we are groom as slave,
In the name of mentoring our glory is laid in the grave.

When will the junior advocates be free from the hand of our persecutors?
This is laid in the hand of the chief justice,
Or should we be expecting the coming of the Messiah?