Europe Or Death Poem by Solomon C Jatta

Mediterranean, I did not come
To drown,
I came because things frown
At home.
Greatness and goodness
Have gone amiss in Africa with no certainty of being found.
Though many boats and bones have gone to the ground
To this unending darkness,
We see the sea as the only light,
But here lies no light but the dying of hope,
The graveyard of restless souls without proper farewell
As they searched for life that is dope
In a far land near the pope.
Here the sea tells of tales of lack of night,
The stench of death hovering over us,
The high tides angry at us with violent rush,
determined to eat up our youth
Down this rough route.
The frail boats of drought and famine
We endure hoping to get to the land of gold mine.
The journey maybe as hot as hell,
But there's no choice, home has no good to tell.
Mediterranean do not swallow our dreams, our pain
And struggle, Europe, don't make all in vain.