The sun sets on the little huts Made of mud and roofs thatched The African child With smiles on his face He hasn't a cause to worry Running to and fro in the scorching sun Lost in the midst of tall trees Humming to the gentle breeze He is a happy child
He is oblivious of the hard truth That a sad future awaits him Full of challenges and misery Little does he know Those smiles he once had Widely drawn on his face May dissolve into frowns of anguish
Committing neither an offence nor crime There may come a time The beautiful fantasies The hopes, dreams and aspirations Everything he once believed in May come tumbling down
Nevertheless, he is relentless There is a ray of hope In this utter darkness Full of vigour and energy By might or magic He will fight his way through He is the African child.
Telling the tale of the underprivileged Africa child through poetry; from personal experience and encounters.