The Poetry of Mayo Agard-Olubo. I also create websites. Contact me at mayoagardolubo.com
The liars played a liars gameTheir words were bought and soldThe sceptics voted with their headOthers did as they were told
It matters how cold the winter How dark the bleakest nightThe cupboards bare, no food in thereWith no end in sight
It matters how deep the cuts goHow much the weakest bleedThe voiceless cry, do we care…
I received a text from HMRCAbout some money owed to meOver twelve hundred pounds, a princely sumMy first thought, do they think I’m dumb?