Writers 
Mr. Death, Mr. Death, you're a terrible host,
You ignore all the callers and haunt me the most!
Your timing is awful, your aim is a mess,
So listen up, sir, while I get this off my chest.
Mr. Okoro, lungs burning inside,
Called out your name till the night opened wide.
He wished and he prayed and he begged you to stay.
You didn't show up. You just looked the other way.
Little Isioma, burnt through and through,
Her parents were weeping, her neighbors were too.
The whole street was begging, "Please, let her sleep!"
But you? You were busy. Your promises cheap.
Where were you, Mr. Death? Where were you?
When the pleading was loudest, where were you?
But the moment I'm smiling, the moment I'm winning,
The moment my life is just finally beginning,
The promotion arrives, the contract comes through,
Here you come like a vulture with nothing to do!
Haba! Is that fair? Is that how you work?
Do you read the list, or you just go berserk?
You skip the ones crying and crash the parade,
Then act like it's normal. Oh, you're not afraid!
Where were you, Mr. Death? Where were you?
When the pleading was loudest, where were you?
Go for the old, let the young ones go play.
Go for the hurting who beg you today.
Go for the wicked, the cruel, and the mean,
Leave the good people alone, you hear me, you fiend?
Mr. Death, I'm pleading, I'm down on my knees,
Check your list twice, sir, and do it with ease.
Be a little more kind and a little more true,
And come for the ones who are calling for you.
