We asked for sunshine and
They deliver candles, when
Emptiness grew intense,
Logic fled the scene, old
Seeds in new soil, yet our
New plans failed to sprout
Upon the manure of wisdom
Windstorm undressed our
Rooftops, now the family
Stands naked on desperate
Tendons, gazing in pain at
Our exhumed privacy that
Was buried by God's darkest
Blanket of great secrets
The nation bleeds with our
Womens' blood as they
Hold their bursted wombs
And lifeless infants while
They exit the universe at
Death traps of childbirth
Leaving us frost, frustrated
No occupation, we've ran
Out of patience with kidney
Patients dying in hospital beds
While our surviving mothers
Try hard to feed their surviving
Kids using broken spoons, carved
From tears, headstones and
Clenching fists of revolutionary
Skulls that exit the earth with
Holes in their sophisticated brains
Glitter in gold and the nation
Is dwelling on ashy skin with
Broken teeth, golden spoons
Feed the first family while
Old souls are unable to feel
Their marrows and call it rot
As they aged in rot, living
In cages where they rot in
Traps made from bloodlines
Of corporate duopoly and
Corruption, agitate the aging
Tower let all decayed bones
Of dead presidents rumble
Under robbles of a crumbled
Tower till the nation pace humble,
Chase the current president
Out of town, fist fight the next
President into office, the mob
Way, mop the system into mod
Let it sink in quicksand of vigilant
Citizenry with lit heads, only then
Will light spark on State affairs
This is a land, so fertile that it
Gives birth to starving children
With bruised bellies and busted
Lip crack bleedings, our eyes
See upside down, but do our
Minds understand our ups and
Downs? Climb the night sky to
Get us a star, so tomorrow can be
Bright, the representative is ripped
Off from sensitive sentiments
Now indicate, then vindicate
The advocate of nonsense
It is feeding time, feed the
Time with Madi's Job, not
Illiterate skulls aiming wit in
A Facebook feeding room, with
Intense drama in their grammar
Trying to fight off a brain
Dead president, truth be told,
The "yellow" messd up the
Country, using ego of a lawyer
Layers pulling tricks, dressing
In white, smiling in white but
Hearts need some detergent
The next flesh will be dressed
In dried bones of the current
Who keeps walking in footprints
Of exiled and dead presidents
The coalition is in the laundry
Room, wearing some of the dirty
Costumes of the killer regime
Now children exit from mother
Wombs to enter rebel rooms
By Lamin Drammeh
Facebook page: Poemic Philosufferer
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July 28, 2021 06:11
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