Chronicles Death Of Our Life Poem by Felix Emeka George

Because I read the chronicle
I understand.
I have gained my History,
This is the revolution.
In the early days
In our land
We are born to see
Flows as an incessantly sea
Of milk and Honey,
I do not know
As there is no hunger in our land
And there is no food in our hand
Is not that we cannot work
But we cannot awake the wage
Even if chance is seen given
But the the chance is not there
We go cry death of our life.