League Day6; OJO ADEWALE vs HOPE NJOKU

This is the final duel for today, and it between OJO ADEWALE IYANDA and HOPE NJOKU...

Both will be writing on the theme; POVERTY.

NOTE;
1) The judges decision takes 70% of the judgement while well wishes and lovers of poetry votes takes 30%.

2) Upon no circumstance must any of the above mentioned poets vote.

3) The contestants are urged to invite friends to vite for them using the commentsection of this post. No rule exempts you from canvassing for votes.

5) Voting lasts for 18 hours from commencement of Duel.

6) Vote using I VOTE POEM 1 or I VOTE POEM 2

7) Results would be uploaded briefly after the closure of votes.

Good luck to the wordlords.. LET THE BATTLE BEGIN!

THEME: POVERTY

OJO ADEWALE IYANDA

Title;THE INHERENT NATURE OF POVERTY

A boy lost his mind

to the presence of his zealousness

the day he toured the path of no wisdom

to the field of opportunities.

The boy preached his heart

till his sweat left his body

to water his swollen feet

yet, not a single soul gave their life to his zeal.

As darkness blanketed the day

It housed the boy and his voice

weariness walked into him

he lost his voice.

He has the liberty to choose

But in choosing, he lost his mind

In losing his mind, he forsook wisdom

In forsaking wisdom, he lost his voice.

A man who has no voice

Will languish in the silence of no choice,

A man who has no choice 

Will forever find home in poverty.

Poverty is not only the disease of the poor

Or a bush created only for those in need,

For the inherent nature of poverty

Is for a man not to have choice. 

HOPE NJOKU

Title; Woman On The Street

by Hope Njoku.

My heart bleeds at her exciting adversity,
at the luster of her beautiful ugliness,
at how anon her lush have turned bush.
In the sockets her eyes have sunk.
Junk her breast have become.
Her familiar is the panhandler,
together they drink the wine of penury.

She has two small coins not worthy of a sparrow
On her groins a plate is placed begging for marrow.

Stewards of Beelzebub, Spawns of the serpent:
For how long will you keep letting her beg for arm?

You wave hands in costly 'agbada' and 'danshiki,'
throthing to serve motherland
and lead us to never-never land.
But oh, see, for self-liberation
and stomach infrastructure
it is that you sweat.

Hearken, you rulers! The day she dies of starvation
you shall have one more blood on your head.