The Ones Yet Born Poem by Inawo Murphy Ternenge

The ones yet born
Avert coming into the cold hot world
If on your way, turn
Hear me if you can
Stay where you are at peace
Here you will be treated like trash
And be dumped in the pan of no peace
You will know no joy
The world will turn you into toy

The world is a swap of dire disturbance
I'm living in it
Its dirt I eat
I worry less
My days are numbered
I've tested its bitter sweet saliva
I tell you, the world is a bitter melon
Its test you can't lean on
The sweetest of its fruits
Nourish us with pain.

Unquestionable are the forces
That control the world
Poverty sting like a bee
And injects avarice into you
The world is wicked and unjust
Men in it toss law like snell shell
To dance to their tone..

If my warning voice can't stop you
From entering the cold hot world
I hope you come prepared
The ones yet born
Hope you come with a sword
On each road are thorns to stop progress
I pray you come with a thick sweater
To warm you from the worlds
unbearable cold Of unhappiness
I pray you come with a boat
To help you cross the ocean of pain..