a poem by Olomolehin John, Nigeria

Here, it is a different ball game
where flows of uncountable heads
haphazardly cluster in daily struggle
under limited space and time

Noises from determined hawkers
and anger-evoking human and vehicle traffic
continuosly send heavy punches to my mental stability

Lagos, burdened Lagos
where every snapshot of activities
is always another pile of refuse of humans
transacting around business complexes
day and night.

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