By Nasiru Oseni
A dry wind careers
Through a trillion unkept strands
Of greying hairs
Distributing the noxious smell
Of industrial waste
Like an unbridled horse
On the third mainland bridge
Free of bumps and potholes.
The other side
Is an endless struggle
Through toll gates
Of daily expenses,
And barricades
Of public and private institutions
That beckon only to the affluent few
Everybody dreams
But only the strong can live here
The weak die slowly in Lagos
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