Fractured Lines
"Ratatatatatata"...
that harbinger of sorrow
women and children wailing and crying
men scampering and dying
on the farm plains lies dead bodies
bodies of innocent citizens
graffiti of blood trail everywhere
Flies feasting and buzzing
Police siren wailing and buzzing
Oh! They are late!
The gun wielders are gone
Into the thick bush they disappear
Promises broken and hopes dashed
Families broken and dreams crashed
Then they make speeches and excuses
Lives are lost
Human life, not cattle
Precious lives not meat
Hmm, Orphans are made!
We all blamed IPOB
with voice they fought
Like ants they marched
With sticks they pushed
But with tanks they were crushed
Alas, the gun wielders are criminals
The men of voice are terrorists
Yet in one country we live
What a fractured line!
What a world.
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