He lay there half-dead hoping a Samaritan would pass by,
The vultures thought they found meat
And as the darkness crept closer
The hyena searched for something to eat.
He was a loner,
A poor man in the struggle to catch the future,
Surviving on plants raised by mother nature,
Nobody’s business he was only listening to the preacher.
Cracking his bones he did,
Looking for every root to dig,
Probably to find all but just a feed,
Eating while listening to the news, how dead bodies are trapped with the leads.
At that time, he approached the greens,
Pockets started to grow fatter,
Till jealous simps started to peep,
Untroubled he was but didn’t know his success invited the hooligans.
He took a stroll for a while,
Upon reaching the foot of the mountain, he took a nap
Coz he was as pleased with what he had become
But time was counting in that hour.
The crooked chick-made count their steps,
It was his end they mumble,
For that day, he would be killed and done with,
That time when they left him half dead for heavens to help him.