Voters Poem by Bamishaye David
Voters
We are co-authors of our misfortune
We hired he-goats to guard our yams
The tremendous hunger at home is strong
The child cried for food
They gave him firewood
But their children eat pounded yam
Our land is sterile of grubs
Our voices are muted
Now, the child seeks survival
They gave him pebbles
Should the child fashion bread from a steel?
The trees are silent
Awaiting the wind's order.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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7/26/2025 9:44:26 PM # 1.0.0
We are indeed co-authors of our misfortune.Beautiful poem