Treasure Island

micheal udenyi

(14 april / Authopedic hosp.Enugu)

A cry for help


the evils that are done in this country
are too great for the ears alone to hear
they are too much for the eyes alone to see
for the those who promised to lead us
to the promised wonder land makes us sin
they make life too hard for the voiceless
for good and evil they skillfully interchange
light they have replaced with darkness
and make bitter sweet life
for wise they are in their own self conceit
in their own sight they are most prudent
and when in the court of justice
the wicked are justified
if would pass a handfull of money in the back
the righteous is denied his right to justice
in favour of themselves are decrees made
they prescribe and write down other's misfortunes
the needy they rob of the nothing they have

Submitted: Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A cry for help by micheal udenyi )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A LONE JOURNEY, Satish Verma
  2. Time Of Discontent, Richard Provencher
  3. I am the citizen of the world, gajanan mishra
  4. In sad way, hasmukh amathalal
  5. Obsession, Francie Lynch
  6. winter, gordon nosworthy
  7. गोरबोजोँ दाहा, Ronjoy Brahma
  8. गोरबो इसिँआव, Ronjoy Brahma
  9. Diwa ng isang OFW, Jesus James Llorico
  10. Clean heart, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]