My mouth sings a solemn song
Well starved of melody.
My soul is about to plunge
As it hangs on the wings of agony.
All I can hear the sound of an harp
That is well armed with the tune of mishap.
Even as I paint a picture
Of a pathetic structure.
As the day’s headache is night,
Africa is the cause of my plight.
An aged mother once swimming in many
Is now so wretched without any penny.
A land where joy flew like a sparrow
Has now become the target board for sorrow
She’s now a playground for poverty and diseases,
Even famine and malnutrition have sworn not to cease.
Dragging on the mud of shame
Is her beautiful and adorned name.
She’s on the verge of losing the game
And no one is obviously absolved of blame.
But I’ll continue to beg Africa,
Day after day will I forward my pleas to her;
Not to throw in the towel
So that she won’t eventually fall in to destruction’s well.
[11-09-2011]
Emmanuel Damilola Adeyemo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-pathetic-structure/
