Our Country Poem by Tony Adah

What a make shift home
Crammed for you and I
Hungry and living by the edge
We the huddled ones beaten, bruised
And always down.
See how the pudgy ones live
And make you and I victims
In the land
Where we work and sweat
Where our ancestor's urine turns
Into liquid gold;
That which which is supposed to strengthen us
But weaken us now.
To you and I
There's a thin line between day and night
Still the dominant few
With Porsche houses and exotic cars
In the centre of the city,
Their light blazes and turns the night into day
And every day you and I
Wait in utter fear
For the tornado to tear through our fate
Beaten, bruised and always down