We Have A Lot Poem by chibuike nwokike

From the south to the north, to the east, to the west
the wind blows
and slows
not, to make every where.
There and here
the sun shines
keeping every at light
oh the world suits us more than rest

The soil at all cost for us, bearing
the pain of the striking
hoe to make men not spoiled.

From the desrted forest, the trees
we fill our lungs,
we are kept in cold and not folded.
From the trees the young
an old