Lagos Is A Kind Of A State

Lagos is a kind of a state,

Where its populace perpetually live in haste,

Everyone always on the go, somewhere;

None exempted, flaunting stances of I don’t care

All days gravid with hustles

For those whom in the clouds build castles,

Or the diligent and optimists,

Slaving away per diem to be on top; the head not the least

Lagos is a kind of a state,

Embracing every tom, harry and dick

Hunting more than green pastures in startling rate

With reality dire and future looking bleak

The city, the town both never sleep,

Nor do autos ever cease to repose;

Topsy-turvy locomotion makes feet weep,

For stilettos and brogues to beg caresses from cobblers to alter holes

Lagos is a kind of a state,

Where people learn not to wait;

Helter-skelter, it seems, all go,

Those au fait with ‘Lasgidi’, isn’t it so?

I have been young and getting older,

Never have I stopped seeming to wonder

Why influx of tribes and tongues still invade a state,

Where set all around are sights and demeanours to make you irate?

Lagos is indeed a kind of a state,

Known for its mad rush, gridlocks, and all till date,

And if a sentence only must I proffer to illustrate this state,

This will it be: “Lagos is indeed a kind of a state”