Now are these words:
Men know themselves when not ripe,
And you come; and they deposit you inside a bin,
Nations love war; war loves not nations,
And you starve; and you die,
That fund for your vaccine was siphoned off,
And polio is here; and who is bothered?
Edifices that touch heaven, we erect them,
And you learn on bare floor; and no books too,
At eight that man raped her,
And he walks freely; and it perturbs none,
I saw him on the road; I saw his goods on his head,
And the truck came; and he went,
Didn’t you see madam ferry her to that far land?
And she is thirteen; and madam has them younger,
Long and dark a tunnel may be, be sure:
Illumination exists at its end,
Written by: Ikwuagwu Osita Victor
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
- The Masses’ Cry (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
- Beware, Many Have Gone (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
- Vox Populi, Vox Dei (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.