Who can say what to who
When we all foliage-free far from the roots
Liberated for self-demise & doom
In this nakedness
Where brothers are materialistic slaves & beasts
Sisters vampires & the young chasen the hearse
Who can save this nation
We claim as ours, from shame
When those we shed our blood for have already failed
Now, who can we bet our souls on
When the unborn to rely on
Is to be born dead,
Africans is Africa dying?
Writer: Bongo Flepu
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