they bit and drip us dry,
All they left, was pain pangs,
They extract our sweats
And left our corpse,
to be fed on by ‘poverty’ vultures,
After they(politicians) must have turned it to wealth.
They grew fat, on our deathly labour,
while we slept on empty stomach,
With little or no food to savour.
They siphon our fund without remorse,
before the election, we call them saviour,
After election, like devil they turned worse.
They made the law, yet they live above it.
No one has the gut to complain,
Few that did, suffered consequence(s), for it.
Now we have a choice,
(To pick up our stakes and silver blades)
or remain with our disgusting hurts.
A choice to remain silent or raise our voice.
It begins with you,
As it begins with me
I’ve lent my voice,
Written by: Usman Abiola
very powerful. when humanity realizes that poverty anywhere is a threat to simple well being we can finally grow as humans should grow..
maybe I’m just dream. Great poem
yes.