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Oh mother! We wander vulnerably like dust, Captured in the restless hands of whirlwind, Our cries were swallowed and eyes are rust, Buried in the mud of hope, caged and pinned.
When would the heaven echo our tears Into the talking drum of your ears? When would we mend the painful tears Of our heart planted by hunger and fears?
Don't tell me I'll suck from your milky breast, I've outgrown the tales of the laughing sun, The cloud of my ignorance has peeled its crest And its content has been poured; sipped by sun.
Why are we made outcasts like a sore thumb? Why are our body and souls bred with mere crumb? While our neighbours are fed to brim and plump, Mother! Have we not with our treasures played trump?
I hope you can listen to my cries, Oh mother, You could've grazed the plantation for five decades And a bit, but to crown it up to six is three kilometers From here, at what age shall we get to the cascade?
MY AFFIRMATIONS WHICH IS INFLUENCED BY THE BOOK THINK AND GROW RICH!
By the 1st December, 2021 I will accumulate a Net Worth in excess of $60,000 with a monthly income of $1,000 or more.
In exchange for this, I will Keep my poems here on blurt to earn. I will keep working offline as a seamstress.
My mission in life to expand my brand TIBANG STICHES AND LOOKS to a globally demanded standard.
Join me at the Zapata community on blurt today.
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