The Call To Justice
The Call To Justice
When the days turn sourer
And the month turns dark
With the years flinging to return no more
Only the lonely already will thrive.
When the hopes of the Negros grow faint
Buried in the bellies of men in high positions
Who sit only for their own interests
With the future of the weak vanquishing into endless strife
Caused by the city’s loafers who do nothing but enjoy.
When the homeless graduates turn murderers
And jobless men are marked languid
Yet only the men in high positions progenies relish
Then let those who have never been wronged laugh.
Let those whose eyes long for just days stand!
Let the men, women and children of our nations
Be awaken from their breathless sleep
So all looters in high positions will flee
From the wrathful wrist of Anas’ restless tiger eyes.
Copyright © Emelia Samanhyia | Year Posted 2018
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