Who will save us?
Who will save us from the bullets of poverty?
Who will stop this bleeding?
This blood that drips from our dry lips.
Who will look upon the emptiness in our hearts?
Who will speak on our behalf?
What voice will put on gumboots,
trek to the rocks and not faint.
Whose voice will leave a letter of our lamentations?
Who will tell them that they have eaten enough?
How will our famished voices reach the top of their mansions?
How will it reach them in their planes up in the sky?
How will they see that our tears are all we have left to dine with,
when the fats of greed has blinded their eyes?
How will they see that Garri has become our Gold?
Must we plant apple trees before they change?
Must we send Amaka to deliver our rage?
Tell me my people.
How shall we be saved?
Who will save us?
Who will take our pains and make us free once again?
I can understand the emotions involved in such a poem. Help must come from within. No one else will come to save.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
How will they see that our tears are all we have left to dine with, when the fats of greed has blinded their eyes? ..... very nice poem voicing for the poor........ thank u for sending us such ideas so that we may become very conscious of the needs of the poor. thanku. tony