A collection of some poems

Futility

In a country meant to be full of joy, Blessed

With multiplex natural resources

A country made for it's citizens to enjoy.

Made futile by a few people.

.

In a country where everyone is meant

To enjoy. Indigens run away,

Like prey escaping a predator

In the dangerous game of life and death.

.

In a country where there should

be happiness. We are left hungry and sad.

Bright lights leave the country

Plunging us into darkness.

.

In a country meant for pleasurable

Desires, there is nothing but pain and suffering

Like a thousand scorpion stings

And the stings from a thousand bees

.

In a country such as this,

There is hope for the future.

The future generations shall

Hopefully be the solution.

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.

.

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..............Michom