Who Cursed Africa? Poem by Adams King

Might be your brothers
the ones you sold for slavery
who turned back with hot tears
falling from both eyes
staring at their father's home
the one you took from them
and cursed you, O Africa

Might be the innocents souls
you took all for your tribal folly
each claiming to own the earth
that which own every man
the harsh death you gave to them
with their blood spilled upon the soil
cursed the very ground we live

O Africa, who cursed you
you have every potential to be sweet
yet bitter as wormwood are you
where the stench of poverty dwells
a healthy land with fertile resources
became a home of malnourished children
I asked again, who cursed you Africa?

Greed has eaten you up to bones
turned you into a caricature of failure
if God is love, we have none in Africa
there the political demons settles
military murderers, masters of massacres
demons that roams about the street
seeking for souls to destroy and devour

on every little deed you raise your ugly head
who made your this foolish and thoughtless
how can a lion celebrate victory over a rat
you're a shame a people with no ounce of integrity
drunk with the power to subject your kind
and watch your children suffer harsh strokes
indeed you're a cursed land, O Africa.