Poetry

TEARS FOR THE POOR

One tear for the poor
As starvation and pestilence ravage us
Like a bee that stung it prey
Impoverishing us day after day

This is made poverty walking
Tall in our communities
As many sleep with empty stomach
If at all they have were to sleep

They call us third World Nations
Underdeveloped continent of stagnation
Decorated with holocaust of devastation
With wars, crimes, deaths and disease

Yet we cheated ourselves in Africa
Stock-piling wealths in foreign lands
The oil giant Nations suffocating
With over a hundred and forty nine people dying installmentally

Wake up from your slumber oh! Africa
Wake up from your weakness oh! Nigeria
Wake up from your “I don care” oh! Niger Delta
And hold unto the Power of Richness

Pius Dukor
Freeman

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