Old Cry Poem by konye ori

Old Cry



Once a future of gold
Now a future untold
Behold- the sun is cold
and in sorrow we fold.
Behold- conscience is sold
and on cliff edges we hold
Oh, our cry is old
and in the same old mold
we fold.

konye ori
Sunday, March 16, 2008
poem poems future Old sorrow
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Poems By konye ori
**the Konye Obaji Ori (United Africa) Manifesto**
- We Are The Africans
Crying 'Africa'
Empty Nest
It Rains
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