My Africa

My Africa

I've seen you seating in your throne
With empty hands but your throne
is made of gold, silver and bronze
One second smile, your only gift to give

Like most wealthy soils your curse is your people's over inflated egos, they don't give they take like  parasitic wild mushrooms
Africa you bleeding, your gold is dead in their attics full of blood diamonds

Goodwill ambassadors, doctors without borders, world health organizations, UNICEF are pumping blood banks back into your veins, they stealing it from your veins, are they really Africans;
  
Blood in blood out, your colour is red
Donors have their feet on their backs 
Your alleyways deases ridden, say thanks to WHO running is not on their dictionary

Born and bred I fell in love, I'm married
My blood is your blood, I'm from the soil
The son of the soil, I weep in your arid lap
Your disease is my disease, I'm your WHO

With all my heart I give thanks and praises to Africans everyday who are still alive and sticking it out through the pains and diseases inflicted by inflated egos of some of us - we'll die one day but not today
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© Lungi Shigo Msusa