The African Father Poem by Mbusya Wa Mbusya

Father, we kneel by the brough,
together, squeezed in the trough,
we lie down prostrate,
tell a lie to frustrate,
Father, we suffer pain of whips
Together, we accept your schemes
tell us why you're quiet,
how can a god play a duet?
We Africans cry to winds of old
We Africans try grains of mold
we lie down prostrate,
tell a lie to frutrate,
Father, we kneel by the brough,
Together, squeezed in the trough,
tell us why you are quiet,
how can a god play a duet!