Garden city awoke
By the strident messages.
The air waves,
The prints,
The billboards
Bore messages of polo.

The day arrived.
The venue bore
Paraphernalias of paradise.
The horses,
The riders,
Mass

Ready to display the dexterity of polo.
Messages of profit chasers
Jostled for arena spaces.

On the road to the venue,
School children in torn uniforms
And worn out footwears,
Hungry and angry teachers
Hurried to dilapidated schools.
Beggars
Stretched bowls to passersby.
Bodies of the dead
And the half dead littered the road.
The potholes
And smelly drainages cry for remedy.

Players atop well fed horses
Entered the ground.
The horses galloped,
The players hit the balls
In show of sportsmanship.

Privileged spectators cheered,
The masses
Moaned in deprivations.