My Shambolic State Poem by Elijah Baguma

Here I go again, by passing a loner so filthy besides garbage in great order.

The rugs she wore were as dirty as the city and town streets.
Her legs filled with jiggers invading from poverty.

The faulty lines of weakness under her feet, so wide open contained diseases, conflicts, suffering and death.

This signifies divisions and nepotism
between leaders, opposition and the minorities.

Her body had rash and pimples spread by corruption. So dirty she was as she moved, slow as a bride, crawled like a snail leaving blood and tears behind flowing like a stream.

Meanwhile, the very first stage of Economic Growth of Walt Whitman Rostow was in process.