The Burning City Poem by Warri Stanley

"The Burning City"

If everywhere is set ablaze,
Peace running helter-skelter,
And love happily travelled overseas,
Like Nigerian youths,
What is our own gain? .

If guns boom all day and night,
If bombs blow our mansions to huts,
And our exotic cars are wheelbarrows,
Like the burnt Bayelsa.
What is our own gain? .

If dark smoke is everywhere,
With the voice of babies crying,
And a black sun came shining,
Like the burning dead,
What is our own gain? .

If our biros are dangerous than guns,
And if our papers are good coffins,
To bury the country in our pockets,
Like a man drowned in the sea,
What is our own gain? .

If there is no love, there will be no peace.
"A man without love can never be a poet"
If we fail to have many more poets,
Like those Afghanistan and Iran,
What is our own gain? .

-WARRISTANLEY