Waiting For My Country Poem by Tony Adah

The cruel sun beats
Heat streams gush
Everything is still
The cold rain pours
Everything is drenched
I am lying down on my bed
Listening to my country
Heat up and boil
Everyone is on their own
We are united by dearth
Divided by bounties.

My bed seems to move
Just motion without movement
An emulation of what my country
Knows best to do
The walls are still
Fans have stopped revving
Long ago nothing to power them
In rain or sun
I am in a cauldron of heat.

My joy
I am still breathing
And tomorrow the roses may blossom.