The Burden Of A Generation Poem by Achilles Mauko

I looked and I beheld birds hover,
Myriads of birds, flying around the pale in her face,
Some weeping, some gossiping,
Most singing the inhuman songs,
Sounds so shrill and confused;
It stirs her blood but she won't dance,
There are more pressing needs
Than the humour of the birds,

I watched her lean figure, tired and heavy,
Heavy with child and burden
Yet her frame racing, hurrying with a flying feet;
Oh! How I wept, and yet shall weep
With the ever returning morn.
Of how such tender breasts, must suckle slaves
Slaves of unrepayable debt and heavy taxation;
Her very days, shades of night

Oh Lord! How we sow with tears,
Bearing trail of seeds
And yet reap burden and pain
Where are our sheaves?
We inherit the emblem of our for-bearers
And pass it to our heirs,
Their every dream born entombed,
The scars of pain and burden we pass with a mute strain.