One morning I rose up to see the sun.
The dews were fading and soon to be gone.
The day was young for it had just been born.
I stood on the hill to watch life unfold,
With an ear for stories that might be told,
Of or by people going up and down the road.
I saw gold reduce in worth as to clay.
Silver losing value to that of hay
What was once priceless in that good old day.
Fame, I saw men preferred to Dignity.
And wealth, a lot more to Integrity.
But cared not for the priceless Purity.
I heard of one craving for a good end.
But to the right path, he just would not tend.
So even for self, he just could not fend.
To see virtues, I looked from North to South.
I saw people living, but morals without.
They said they’re trash and they feed not the mouth.
The truth which only few could understand,
Was that it’s with these virtues in our hand,
Only can we hope for a better Land.
My consolation came from gems so rare.
By whose conduct my joy really did stir.
For they lived there lives so just and so fair.
Of these were told tales of sincerity.
By their acts came about serenity.
On these I hope for my Society.
(c) Peter Akhere