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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My pocket like a onion I eat onion a lot, Cos I feel so good about it taste, The flavour from my lips, scare's men that gossip, away from me, My pocket like an onion, I understand the benefit, of an onion It lower my headache, Help relax my body temperature, A white herb, Yet when I slice the onion Tears run down my eyes, Like a man moaning his wife, My pocket like an onion, Like a jungle, Like a ghetto, Life is painted with a fight, Where Struggling is ovious, Like a do me, I do you, Competiting for survival, In a tiny line of opportunity, My pocket like an onion When it comes to money, The space of the rich, to the poor, Is largely clear, in the third world, People always eager, To do something, But still found, nothing to do, My pocket like an onion When I was a boy, I was never worried, about tommorow, Cos! In my youth, I never understood, what the system is all about, I never worked, cos I was at school, My parent provides, all that it take, Papa use to say! son, one day you will be a man, I love when he says that, cos! it create a joy in me, Doe I never understood, the gravity behind his words, Now am older, Is time to be a man, My pocket like an onion I found my self working, First job In Africa, It like a play, The wages, was nothing to write home about, working so hard, For a common wage, when I check my pocket, Hmmmmmm........, is a word, No comment, My pocket like an onion throwing out all in my pocket, Yet nothing is found, So bitter I grief, Is a funny world right? tears run down my eyes, Like when I slice the onion, Cos of an empty pocket, After a hard day job, My pocket like an onion, situation like this still Exist in the third world, On a high scale, Where empty pocket, Provokes one to shade tears like when u slice an onion, What a past life experience, My pocket like an onion!
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