The Outcry Poem by Warri Stanley

The Outcry.

Has oth'rs not hear our outcry? .
'Cos you don't need to be here or there,
Our tears has made many oceans.
And we struggle to swim on it.
You swim, I swim,
Without land.
Has any one of you ev'r been here? .
Here or there,
Where the boys fill their belly with smoke,
With all those wat'rs of Sapele,
And to watch the ceiling dancing.
All through the night.
Yes, all through the night,
And to join the rats meeting,
Then wake to see anoth'r mystery.
And our cry still remain our cry.
But they're growing into noma,
And seats are dancing,
They feel everyone is happily living too.
But I've not ate cake,
Nor drank from their black wat'r before.
I've not been stealing,
Nor found escort one to his grave before.
'Cos I know all living is living,
If all souls desert the world for you,
Like jupit'r or mercury
Can only you be?
If no,
Then why are you not happy about mr B existence?
But the seats know this not.
And that's why,
Yes, that's why,
Our outcry still remain our outcry.
And all is just stumbling to dust,
And the days are just looking,
Yes, looking, they comes to look us the way we look.
Like the pregnant cloud,
Whether storm or rain I know not,
But it must surely deliv'r,
'Cos our outcry still remain our outcry.

- Warri Stanley.
（c）2017