This country nurtured hope..

 This country nurtured hope decayed,
The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler,
The thief.
Feeling the base of his belly.
There is a slum in my heart But I cannot relocate it to my foot Nor hand nor back Its rusted tin makeshifts make my blood flow slow.
War has filled my heart with bullets, Steel and blood do not mix.
A bullet lodged in my head Is another brain of the dead.
Africa my home Africa my tomb.

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