my society is rickety
it has lost its nutrients and become unbalanced
the doctors labour to revive it
a kobo for drugs two naira for injections
they amass wealth in the name of cures
the village herbalist has come
he came with his herbs and left in wealth
my society is worsening
the drugs are nauseating
the hullabolo of isms a nuisance and scam
the doctors, tghe herbalists speak in isms
my society is deaf to their language and ways
we hear and see but we cant speak
bureaucrasy has taken our voice
it has bought our voice with the naira
we become lost
bureaucrasy takes time
we become lost in the time
our nation is ill and suffering
torn between desperation to speak and illnesss
he sobs, he is short of tears
he communicates to us via the natural
but the doctors and herbalists translate in isms
my society misquoted, grieves quietly
he cant understand the complexity of isms
my society is rickety and remain unbalanced
that's a painning poem you have the tools yet they aren't operating properly or at worse they seem to be only self-absorbed wonderfully thought out poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow that was beautiful and sad it was like there's nothing you can do about it it hurt a little