Then if you are real
Like mother’s kitchen broom
Wipe out my Africa
Like a clan of cockroaches –
Rumour eats my Africa
She trades itself
For the meagre funds
Gathered like firewood
By those new big-bellied men
Who buy & sell men’s hearts
With a piece of white paper
Or barter them
Through a cake of seminars
Chaired by the gun!
Then if you are real
Wipe my Africa
Wipe a whole continent
Out of existence ...
But whoever goes to UN
Help us
Tell our story to WHO
For Africa shall spring anew
Together with other Third & Fourth globes!
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.