A Cry To My Country Poem by Emmanuel Joseph Olumakiss

Life of people of ancient
Was it unpleasant?
Ancestors lived
Like Methuselah of old

All was firm and fine
Crops wasn't infertile
Death fight them not
Disobedience they always doubt

Black were once betrayed
With the works of their own hand
After rebuild sanatorium
Our life became gloom

Exposed our life to violence
Our hope in turbulence
Life weather like leaves
Corruption trek tribes

Air inhale leads succumb
Bomb blast triggers tomb
Helter skelter scamper feet
Living in our world on a hot seat.