Africa Wake Up Again!

I hear my mother cry,
And when I ask why?
With tears she reply,

“My daughter goodbye
It has been a pleasure to have given birth,
And for what is worth, I have seen hell on earth,
I have seen blood spill and hunger berth,
Sand has turned into blood and dirt,
From joy to hurt, from streams to wasteland,
From where I stand –to warlords empty hand,
How can I take a command from an unholy man?
I, painfully stand, where mothers were being torn,
From the West to the Horn,
How can this be compared to the norm?
How can you equalize me to those who were born
…in freedom? Which we (Somalia) could never form”

Mother Africa,
Wake up again,
Stand up again,
Fight back again please,

I can’t be too sensitive when this is subjected
I’m living in a world that’s infected,
…with pain and struggle, that’s neglected
How can my wrongs be perfected?
…when life is hectic and never static?
My words are making me sick,
My mind is aching and I feel my nerves tick,
With poetry I reduce the panic,
I have no place to turn,
I feel the hate and the burn,
We seem to yearn for mistakes, but we never learn,
…so Mother Africa,
Wake up again,
Stand up again,
Fight back again please.