Our own dear government
A government of leaders, unmoved by choice.
When fuel price rose to our discontent
In the rocks you sat deaf to our voices,
Bad roads, no light, no food! Like Jeremaih we lament
Yet you remain in your offices unmoved by our “noise”.
A government of unmoved leaders please repent.
How long shall you remain unmoved?
If those events never moved you, please be moved by this.
“Gboom!” The bomb exploded, killed our leaders
Our leaders, I mean the hopes of our morrow.
Pains from gunshots sent to grave our leaders,
And their mothers trusted in your hands to wipe away their sorrows.
Ahh! You’ve multiplied their sorrows – they are nowhere to be found.
The Magarets and Marys of tomorrow, forget not —
They too marched barefooted on these grounds
Trace the marks their soles made and find them lest they rot.
…writing is beyond mere ideas, proudly instincts!