Look at them robbers of our treasuries,
Look at them high profile beggars ridding on horses.
They make reference to us in mockery, yet feast from our tables,
They feed in peace and trade our potion of meals.
When Our babies die of malnutrition, our daughters *****, our wife turn to the streets for refuge, and what did you not call us; hungry lazy stinky beggars?
When our sons hawk for survival, you chase them like thieves, and enact laws to  prosecute them like common criminals;
You watched us loose our farms, our homes, our children and our husbands yet you offered us nothing but streets and bridges to sleep and freeze to death.
We had smiles before frustration wrinkled our faces
We had families and friends before sorrow clouded our joy
We survive the bruises of swords and guns  yet we feel better off death than alive.
Its dark and Scarry we can't sleep for by gun sounds our throats maybe slayed.
Wounded IDP's