My mother, Nigeria
Oh poor me!!!
My children look at me with disdain
They're eager to forget our fight for freedom
Oh poor me!!!
My children have taken turns to rape me
They've taken their knives and scarred me
Oh poor me!!!
Those who should cater for their wounded mother are appalled by the sight of her
They plot evil against her
Oh poor me!!!
My children pander with new mothers
Who's the savior that'll save me?
Oh poor me!!!
My once fertile land is almost barren
My emptiness is an outcry to mothers like me
Oh poor me!!!
A giant that is no longer tall
The dwarfs now cast me as lot
Oh poor me!!!
I'm indebted to all and sundry
Each looking for a way to own me
But...
I'm still standing, though I stand with a slouch
I'm still moving, even though I stagger throughout
I'm still expectant though I've been termed sterile
The children I'll yet birth will be better than the ones who drove me to the ground.
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