A Poem: A Cry for Recognition*


Our father land and place of abode
Filled with a bunch of greedy toads
We cry day and night in sufferings attire
Yet it's as if there's no prayer, and no fire

The poor are almost licking the dust
Love is not in their hearts 'cause its gone rust
The land flowing with innocent blood
When will you hear us, O God!


You promised not to leave your own
Your servants are slaughtered by devils that are known
Vigils, fastings and yet they're still there
God, please, come over here


We're like a tiny finger rising in a large sea
Not recognized by even, the nearest friend, nor the scary sea
We're like tiny ants on the sand
Lord, we plead that you hold our hands


Mercy, Lord we plead
Let our land and homes your eyes see
Lead us through life's troubled sea
Let your fear in our leaders be


Open your ears to our prayers
Let us hide in your loves layers
Hear us, Lord in deep contrition
We cry Lord for your Recognition.

© Daniels Pen ™✍️✍️✍️ 2021.