A Waste Bin Poem by John Ugolo Umah

It was the then good
the emblem of others
where peace run like river
across layers of earth

now that the drum beat is change
human life becomes animal life
where they are use for the game
a game play by politicians

our fears
we are afraid giving birth to dreams
we are afraid of our own people
the soil have been soak with blood

should this be a waste bin
of human death
heavy hollow of pains
horror of sorrows strike our hearts

we are still living
living amidst these death earth
drown with blood of all the death
we walk with fear now

there is no more moon in our nights
even the sun shine brightless
we are all afraid of who's next
so, we think, it's a waste bin

who will still remember those gone
when the horrors are terrifying
there's no place to hide any longer
dreaded by the continuous blast gunshots

we still have hopes
hopes for a better tomorrow
all these shall surely stop someday
sooner we want it stop...