A SALTY TRIBUTE

All hail to you, dearest future!

All hail to you, bleeding lips!

Sorry if I tell my story too harshly.

But tears are my daily meal.

 

I know what it means to lament.

I know what it takes to eat pain.

But before the violin is played,

Please hear my salty tribute.

 

Oh, exuberant mother's,

When will you value my worth?

When will you pity my elegy?

When will you define my gift?

 

I am an African child.

Reincarnated for betterment.

I’m thirsty for education,

But why are you resisting me?

 

Oh Mother’s Africa,

Sitting on a throne of minerals,

Don’t you know the future is me?

Or are you heartless to my dream?

 

Oh dark continent,

Who shall light you in your old age?

Would you be happy dozing on a street?

Why your kids are presidents tomorrow?

 

Oh! Time is eating me up

I need to rewrite my errors

Please, balance my future.

I am a kid, but I've right to learn.

 

 

©Gabriel S. Weah

 

 

@everyone