THE FARMER

Written by: Esson Alumbugu

He sells his soul to tend the 
earth
To make this crown within 
my plate
Yet I am taught to hate this 
man.

In rain or shine he strikes 
his blow
To force my future life to 
grow
Yet I am told to hate this 
man.

He crawls for miles to feed 
me fresh
Extorted yet he toils the 
more
Yet I am asked to hate this 
man.

With crude weapons he 
makes his war
For me he waits upon the 
rains
Yet I am forced to hate this 
man.

Am ignorant peasant they 
claim
Has not a place amongst the 
saved
But which ought people best 
pamper:
The golden egg or bird 
which lays?