How will it be when the wheel turns and tables turn against us.
Our children seeking refuge in their countries cause their four fathers failed to eliminate slavery cause slavery was the only option they had before they had you.
Every day and night they cry themselves to sleep, music has the home for their pain, turning pain into power.
My poor little rich country used to be a home for all after all it has become a home, so deep in pockets yet spiritually dead cause no single soul stood up for them when ropes and tires were made necklaces to their necks.
Empty vessels are now making the loudest noise on the streets cause their cans are full of anger, school children looting the streets, claiming to protect their jobs whereas they are not even in the job market.
My words may sound crump to you, but my word is excel on the computer giving birth to power point putting me on point to share my ink with you, cause my closure needs no exposure.
Our bodies may be on time but our time has passed away with the soul cause they used to cry for the pain caused on us yet today the cry of the pain caused by us.
If really we are break-even then why can’t we break-free from this ruthless country and conquer hate for faith.
Cause africa is no longer a continent but a community of blacks.
Put your feet in their shoes, I bet you won’t survive the pressure cause you have a soft spot.
Just because you can handle the truth, it does not mean you can carry the pain.
How will it be when the wheel turns and table turn against us, when mercy is not around…