Are You A Mother? Poem by Alade Abayomi Idris

Beautiful mother we call
We crave your love
That never seems to be
The more we reach
The quicker your wind blows it.

The life you give are not from within
Fruit of death you entice first man
And to keep his children off
You send natural soldiers
Which mosquito is their commander.

You planted greed and selfishness
In our tender hearts
And the bottomless pit that you dug
At the end of our stomach
Breaks the cord of humanities
Shatter our oneness.

We flee from wrath of your soldiers
Into grim hands of our brothers
Men become fishes
Swimming in the sea of their bloods.

Are you a mother?
Of course, you are not
The irony of ages
I make straight to you, Earth.