I Was Born In Africa Poem by Mc Emmanuel Craftsman Zohn

I was born in Africa
A sweet but bitter home
Crafted out in beauty and splendor.

A place by nature
Dash in wealth and bliss
Yet, it's ruined by monumental penury.

A place that has fallen into the rut of laziness,
Having fertile acres and hectares
Yet, starvation knows its name -
billowing: "Africa, Africa"
Oh, what a pity!

Africa is where
I was born

A continent that has its glorious hope
Held by the uncertain hand of fate
Authoring for it a very sad story.

A continent full of heads
That are conquered by the West
Heads that are void of positive thoughts for their continent.

Africa, Africa, Africa

Oh, it is a landmass that's venerable
Virtually every border in it
Is opened to deadly sicknesses
like ears unclosed to good news.

Africa is tagged
"POVERTY-STRICKEN CONTINENT"
But this is the place I was born.

Here, we hail thieves
Here, impunity thrives
Here, we celebrate deceivers
Here, the complexion of our skins reflects the color of our minds.

Black, black, black

Here, we don't think positively
Here, ignorance befriends our minds
And so, our minds are used against us
As the greatest weapons of our oppressors.

Ah, but this is the place
I was born: Africa!