The noise from the soldier’s thundering horn
Rudely disrupts my pleasant sleep, I jolt.
Though i’m mad, I am too scared to revolt.
Like my mates, I leap from my bed and run,
It’s barely dawn, but our day has begun.
The morning breeze causes the dust to float,
It causes a nasty itch in my throat.
Oh ! I sigh , the day ahead won’t be fun.
Surrounded by a swarm of white t-shirts,
I match to the beats of the soldier’s drum;
“Left , Right , Left , Right” , deep within me I hum,
Immune to the pain on my feet which hurt.
I’ve denied pleasure and forsaken all,
’cause I want to obey the clarion call.
A sonnet of the everyday life of an NYSC Corps Member at the Orientation camp.