Living in third world countries is like a state of emergency
You are not yourself and everything is of urgency
You wait for oxygen, gamble for water and meet insurgency
Not even your neighbour wants anything to do with tangency.
It is worse when your state is low and your problems row
Even helpless children may find a reason your line to tow
And then your will be accused of having caused a blow
To the village, to the plot, to the happy and pleasurable show
You live like a pauper and worse than a stupor
You pray silently for your voice is more of a stopper
Of people's peace and light they got from a wise shopper
It would as well be good to squeeze you wishes in a dropper
You buy a piece and lose peace with your boss
You sell a treasure and pressure eats your loss
You sleep late and suffer from a marital choice
You wake up early and sleep over your permanent course
That is what it means to be in the third world nation
You fear what could roll or fall in the next election
Unsure of the theories and agenda in their creation
The air smells foul from deeds which daily get an elevation
You have to be strong and fight a tough life
It turns out that your dreams will end in a rife
Just like it did for the famous rapper Dawg Phife
You have to choose being assertive or a mere shife
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
an interaction with the lower class citizens just before elections gives you a picture of our countries. People worry, relocate to other places and wait for the worst.