It Drives Me Nut Poem by Paul Mwenelupembe

Farmers are the friends of rains and mud
When rains say, 'nay' farmers reply, 'here we are
Here we are with our sharpen teeth
We turn soils and our enemy hunger blade'

So farmers struggle and hug the storms
And crops reply, here we're, too
The sweats you produced, welcome gee!
We want to feed up huge birds'

So it drives me nut when I see farmers out cry
Rolling and dying for proper markets
By selling their stuff at a tower gage

So it drives me nut when I hear their wall
Their call on better wall coins and tools
They want to be scholarly in flocks
By selling them at hike pennes

So it drives me nut when I hear silos' old
Are old doves tanks to keep the salt and oil?
They want morden stomacks to swallow the dead
By selling them at alower gauge

Put in your room these economic jungles masters
Our economic engines of this mother earth
And change over night to see sun
And agrarians outstanding agrarians sing and dance