Here prone we lie knocked out
Floored by mortal fear no doubt
Abused voter is dead to the count
Hit hard again broken bones abound
Freedom to choose not cheap soon found
Traded all for safety nearest cave around
Sold birthright simply be able breathe out
Voters fled in droves into selves soundless
Making word election for Africa dirty and foul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem