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LAMENTATION

LAMENTATION
My name is Africa
I have a minimal respect
And hampered by the weight of preys
The price of being built on storm-bitten posterity

They scrub my envelop
And bruise my face
With their machines
Chewing me like  ruminants.

From mountain to mountain ride the fierce horseman
Though I have closed my gate on them,
I pity for my posterity.
I know what devil’s trade they learn
From those they live among,
Their drink, their pitch-and ‘toss’ by day
Their robbery by night,
The wisdom of my people is treaded on
How can the posterity invigorate?

I refuse to be consoled.
                                Rurekyera Geofrey

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