.
Today I seem to throw away my identity,
This is not my nation
How can it be such a motion?
My country has forsaken me
To live without hope.
To live diseased to die?
Am I worth it? .
.
Like some citizens, am fed up
And I have given up.
My love still remains on that loam soil
Coz by blood I had loved you.
But my heart can't suffer any more.
Move in the future you harness
As I retain the past that I breath
.
Is it not better to die in exile?
Than a decorated refuge at home.
What's a jewel to the pigs?
The future is dug out of today.
And now that today promises turmoil
The future will be the burial for the wiery souls.
Am proud I won't be a Ugandan then.
.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
" Is it not better to die in exile? Than a decorated refuge at home" Unfortunately this is the dilemma of most Africans especially those who are privileged to to have left their countries. A very sad situation though. Beautiful poem. Please kindly check my poems HOPE and THE BEAUTY OF DEATH. Kingsley Egbukole