What is it with this continent
This wretched place of crime
This evil space between the seas
This land of Negroid slime?
We wonder at it's beauty
And rip it's guts right out
We feed the hungry masses
And still they shout
There is no end to breeding
no end to all it's pain
although it's self inflicted
The means and end are the same
No responsibility or ownership of law
Only fleeing, hungry millions
Going to the European shore
Begging, begging for more
We talk about leaving
Going to places safe
We talk of leaving this evil
Of starting up again
What is it with this continent
With it's people and begging bowl
I think it's just that once you're here
Africa own's your soul!
Despotic rulers sow mayhem
And cry foul to their colonial past
Blaming the white man for all the evils
Into eternity, It'll always be their fault.
But when all is said and done
I know this to be true
You can leave this dark continent
But Africa - It owns your soul.
Salagatle!
4 comments:
Fuckin' hell, bro...your strongest and best yet. Brought a tear to my eye, I assure you.
Right on the head of the nail...
Hey you asked for it.....
Salagatle!
Hi
Good poem, can we see some photo's of your plants again. Keep going with the poems maybe we can sell a book?
Hey back off there, Seaman....I bagged the book rights a while ago already. Just ask Max... :-)
Post a Comment