Rain In the Morning Is Pain On the Poor

Since they cannot fend for themselves, how they can yawn rest of the night and go into the morning experience no food move in the afternoon any food and in night again no food. However government is up there driving exotic vehicles and living in Royal Palaces using our blood to fuel their cars. Making us slaves on our lands, paying taxes with our sweats to feed their machines in a country we belong. We have been denied justice; our courts lost the credibility of the masses, because they are manipulated by corrupt elites to cheat. Our lands are our vehicles force, but today we are the beggars seeking for help. Allowing government erects tribal citadel that apocalypse us and killed our shared values, norms and cultures. They divided us to set us on fire rule us with the barrel of their guns. The country is echoing with poverty, diseases and wicked individuals. My head rumbling with thinking my belly is grumbling, from east to the west and north to south flies are buzzing around mosquitoes are wailing in my ears helping me to the grave. Corner to corner every morning stenches snap me on my window. Rest of the night I kept dreaming prosperity, I wake up to find rain drawing my thatching roof, and the children crying on the neighborhood weeping in their huts sharing the same galaxy.