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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Weak sick and divided Weak The master never fool around His commands must be final So till date he still keep up to date With his subjects Never let them better is his moto Keep them to the lowest level Corrupt their hero’s Kill every rise they ever could be And keep them looking up to their master when they are tired and Weak Sick The master with no morals Has no good medication for his subject To him they are lesser than humans So why should they be healthy They don’t need to be stronger The master don’t need no challenge So pollute their air Pollute their food Kill their sperm count If they will live they must be Sick Divided The master know if his slaves are united His games could end in a short terms So he keep them fighting one another He turn their face against each other He created An emotional illusion for them to black mail each other Brother no longer see his own the same African Sisters are not royal with her own blood to rise a good home no more We are now the shadow of ourselves Separated with wars tribalism racism and ignorance Isolating each other with tribal differences Invading ourselves with an iron fest With a never ending story of ambush Turning our own people to beggar’s I write for Africa now yes I bleed for Africa I pray we wake up to live one day We all need to unite not be Divided We need to share love among us This is why my poem cry’s now Note This poetry is never meant Or represent any act or group of violence
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