The Rotten Ages by M.B. Gama

M.B. Gama | June 5th, 2009 | poetry | No Comments

The wind blows swiftly across the Kalahari,
Waters of the Nile flood the Sahara,
Gallons plunges at the bottom of the Victoria,
Frost, dew and snow covers the plateaus of the Kilimanjaro,
Beauty aside, Africa is darker than the dark ages.

The glittering diamonds of the west,
Bloodshed, thousands of lives couldn’t be worse,
Gallons of oils and naturals of the west,
The profit of those with origins of the west,
Wealth aside, Africa is more depressed than “the great depression.”

Freedom: sung by the people of the south,
Opressed in Kinshasa, none open their mouths
Stability of the neighbours, just making ends meet,
Turmoil of the peacemakers, its’ time of the fleet
Independence aside, Africa is the slave of greed and power.

Like the Egyptian plagues, it swept across the continent,
Left children to fend for themselves,
Adults to blame themselves,
And generations to feel sorry for themselves
The rotten ages of the dark continent

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