The seeds of our past choice lay barren on marsh.
Like infertile eggs of mother hen.
We despised the sacrifice of Farmers.
We have turned round the seasons of the year.
But they’ve refused to grow.
We made the wrong choice.
A new chance is bequeathed upon us.
Let’s chart a course for the future we want.
Our tragic lots rest on the choice we made.
Remember we were here to decide “now”.
Shall we because we’re stricken, homeless run
Into a wild den for an heritage?
We were there, where we left and made no progress
The time has come to see beyond today
We were here, when our conscience was stolen.
Samuel A. Olowolayemo