My Land Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

Misfortunes reign in the domain
The domain of my intimates
Where the trees bare no peach
The manufacturer now the vagrant

In the streets brother attacks brother in a rage
Devoid of anyone sage, sister against mother because of bread
The domains turn to be sombre
Disunity amongst the masses tears them apart

The domains seem to have been cursed
Many drought spells being experienced
Hunger and starvation turns to be the weapon
Fashioned against the masses

A new day has come
But it cant lend me a pair of shoes
For I barely know my size
My intimates set my soul on fire

Standing firm in this epoch of coercion
In nature surrounded by busy ants
The degree of illiteracy shakes our prospect
Where the prophecy foretells doom.