The Prize

 They were the prize they said

But I saw as a child

How they discarded those they unwanted

Pretty Toyin with her permed hair

Crying over the aged bachelor in her boys quarter

Beautiful Maryam

The newscaster who was a corper

Who had her things thrown out in the streets of Bolori

They were the prize they said

And held the power over tears

And happiness

Over self

Leaving a string of sorrow and sadness

Of pursuit and conquer

Of lust and desire

The prize of chaos

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