In Third World Poem by priscah Mutswenje

Living in third world countries is like a state of emergency
You are not yourself and everything is of urgency
You wait for oxygen, gamble for water and meet insurgency
Not even your neighbour wants anything to do with tangency.

It is worse when your state is low and your problems row
Even helpless children may find a reason your line to tow
And then your will be accused of having caused a blow
To the village, to the plot, to the happy and pleasurable show

You live like a pauper and worse than a stupor
You pray silently for your voice is more of a stopper
Of people's peace and light they got from a wise shopper
It would as well be good to squeeze you wishes in a dropper

You buy a piece and lose peace with your boss
You sell a treasure and pressure eats your loss
You sleep late and suffer from a marital choice
You wake up early and sleep over your permanent course

That is what it means to be in the third world nation
You fear what could roll or fall in the next election
Unsure of the theories and agenda in their creation
The air smells foul from deeds which daily get an elevation

You have to be strong and fight a tough life
It turns out that your dreams will end in a rife
Just like it did for the famous rapper Dawg Phife
You have to choose being assertive or a mere shife