Peasant Souls on a Worthy Land
The creator was
good to us
From the
present, to the future dated from the past
Our possession
of the land comes with a ticket
We hold the
emblem of hope and our fingers fidget
We thrust our
hands in our pocket
Day and night
the time tickles
The location is
built out of greens
The land’s need
alone the soil can feed
Yellow metal (gold) is
the soil’s stone
Waters flow
across the land poles
In the mother
water’s bosom (sea) dirty blood of energy flows (oil)
With fertile weather
seasons, as healthy animals grow
Divided we fall
together we stand
Beautiful Black
Star shinning like the sun
With no
ethnicity bounds hospitality is our might
Rich culture
fixed to cohesion peaceful tribes
From
generations civil war we’ve despise
To be peasant
souls on a worthy land?
Religion has
become opium of the masses
Painting riches
as a deadly weapon in most cases
In our
emaciated body we’re promised heaven
Are the land’s
resources shared even?
Out of hunger
we lament from morning till evening
They take the
little we have for the House keeping
A government
where blood is split by ideas and not guns
Campaign shapes
our faith to be it fans
Myopic to
development, diplomatic thieves
Stranger aren’t
you, you’re now fat than your sleeves
Vulture do you
value carcass, tell us how you feel
Ananse (wise man) the good
are yours so keep
Orphans we are,
we can’t dream like the sun, we sip a bottle of rum
We’ve lost
trust, we’ve lost faith, and election is our gun
If the world
judges us guilty, we die for our sons
Our sins we
cleanse by the rays of the sun
When you meet
us, we beseech you run
We want to be no more peasants on a worthy land
Points: 4757
Reviews: 73
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