Who was him to lead?
A question many rhetorically want answer to.
Fruitless surely purported, for on the thorns it fall his seeds.
For indelible will be his woes.
What does he actually see?
Past, present and future on a table for three.
Does he know what he is served: War or Peace?
Height is mere, for why foolishly make a climb to view from a sycamore tree.
A blind to lead sighted multitudes?
Surely this practice fit for a governmental title.
As the sighted will not only share its gullible cake, but of same attitude.
Alas! friends and aides are many other than cripples.
A land flourished with milk and mead.
But will turn sour from its jug.
Cana-like; the best stored for last, but this an act of greed.
Whom what he has done, could only see right no sight for wrong.
The sight for a blind man could only make him a nostalgic cup of tea
As he tethered the aspirations of the sighted to a log.
Pebbles of glory and milestones thrown into misfortune sea.
Nonetheless do you dress in fine robe with long epaulette, for sure will shape-shift into frog
Composed by Xavier Victor Kanu
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