O! Let me cry oceans of tears.
Let me weep for tomorrow’s children.
Because broken is our intellectual heritage.
For so long, our eyes danced on the tomb of hopelessness.
The fragrance of our bodies sings a song of uncertainty.
On the walls of barriers,
The four corners of nothingness garment us.
Real but painful, the seed of death sits in us.
In my ears, ring a bell of gold diggers leaders’.
Yet, since Independence, our nation’s wealth has been crippled.
Are we citizens without a better tomorrow?
Our faces are tired of the seeds of violence.
Eater’s for better today, reciprocate our future.
But before I depart this broken and ill-fated soil,
Please wipe my tears; my watery eyes are bloody.
Since Independence, I’ve heard many promises:
A promise of lying political robbers,
A promise that defined us, from trying to errors.
Oh! Before you impregnate my mouth, I’d have a question.
Why are politicians darker than even Satan?
On the bedsheet of embezzlement, commoners cry.
Our sweet salutations nap in soliloquy.
With a perplexing taste of agony, our lives are frowned upon.
What’s the benefit of having Independence?
Even our futures are rougher than nails!
Since Independence, our minerals have been given out for donations.
It’s a paradox to have a prophetess, yet you cannot pray.
Oh! Bewildered sackcloth, when will you genuinely interest us?
Bold to our faces, backwardness enslaved us to death.
When shall we dance gloriously, o perverse Jezebels’?
©Gabriel S. Weah
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