our own poem

Let  the concerned one speak for our unborn child,
so that the word will be free of mayhem.
The cakes they ate should have satisfy them,
leave some portions for their gentle souls.
Let them have their own share of the nation's wealth.
The boulevard is full of aggravating misery.
The presents lives in ''ghettos and slums'', fortified with hardship.
We strive endlessly to get the western stuff call 'Light'(education).
Yet our pens disseminate penury.
The poor men fortress is an abode
where pestilence distort the day.
Would there still be a change,
or we will continue to live in cage,
don't let poverty drive us to rage.
So avoid the upcoming mirage.

Our Home should be our hope

We are now wise,yes we are
The tales told then in our prime will be frowned at now in our teens
we cannot be fooled now with those mysterious myths.
What pasture can be more greener
than that of ours.
Why then should the oceans be crossed
in search of a smother one.
We moght be dreadful like a lion,
if our pride and honour are not restored.
We are being hurt,despite the votes we casted.
Yet,we are being nice
our home has been turn to hells and hades,
and our hope has been dashed by the lies they told.
Our trees no longer bear fruits,
only chaos and anarchy come and forth.
Remember, your offspring will suffer most, if the broken fence are not re-erected.
For those days will surely come ,when the hens will grow teeth to bite the fingers that hurt it.
Those days,girls will become women ,while boys will be men.
Those days,the tubers will cook itself to satisfy the farmers taste.
The stream will bring itselfs to satisfy the peoples thirst.
For troubles not to ply the road of the earth,stop your hum-buzz and fill the vaccum