The Pain Of Being A Citizen Poem by Tony Adah

I am a citizen
I walk the streets
I work in the meadows
Searching for work and chopping woods
I have donated the sole of my shoes
To the sand
I have seen the pain, the penury
And the poverty
I have been fed good on a Samaritan's
Fruit which shell I threw down
From a tree and someone worst off
Than me picks the crumbs
The pain is much I wish
I could undo if the taxes paid
Perchance find their way into
My trap for equity glaringly
In dearth.

Who shares the pain than those who
Already have it?
Who cares if the rain patters on you
Or if you are in the meadow
Chopping woods that your stomach
Will not see?
Who cares if the citizens are many
Who can not help themselves?
The few pudgy necks and fingers
Are blinded by the loot which the
Commonwealth provides
It's our complacency that put us
Under the thraldom of the few.

Ripped jeans and spiky hair and
Loose cuffs and sagging pants and
European leagues that takes our time
When the silo is empty for the
Children we cause to see the ugly
Back of the earth we were given
To have dominion on its endowment
Posterity we lie to ourselves
That will undo our pain.