Deprave

We move, but lost in direction of the displeasure they gave to us,
our daily bread taken to appeal their cause,
our mouth filled with unspoken pain,
our children cry's of lack of childhood age,
we Dance to sound of their wicked tongue,
Oh..! my country, fill with rainbow mouthed leader's, deceivefull as the evening sun

Afe Tosin Shola
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 07/30/2019

Poet's note: This poem talks about Africans bad leaders, the way the sold their country out.
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