DESTITUTES… By M. Lawrence
They claim we are the leader’s of tomorrow; yet, we have been trapped in these tattered clothes.
Hunger has found solace in our stomachs. Yet, we stand at ease waiting for the freedom call
We are the destitute’s you have promised to cater for.
All we embraced is the cold wind that sent most of us to an early grave.
You now forget the chants we rendered at your campaign stands;
Hoping If a shelling would forget itself in our palms.
I know you claim we are pot bellied like you are.
Starvation created ours; the rights you denied us formed yours.
Have you no sense of pity to see we are drowning in pits?
We cry everyday before we go to sleep;
Hoping to be fed wit hunger a new day.
Our faces no longer hold smiles, only traces of wrinkles everyday that passes by.
Give us a future and watch us sing a song of fortune.
Your young looks now amazes us;
For we grow so old before our time.
You want your wards to fly, yet you mope and watch us cry.