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Little children with screaming ribs
Bulging eyes and feeble limbs
Stomachs filled with empty meals
Spirits broken in penury

Growing up unevenly
Economically and socially
Basic needs are luxuries
With less than one dollar coming in

Choices robbed,  Options deprived
The pendulum swings
Absolute and Relative
Survival chance Is dreary bleak

Cycle so vicious,  Our hatred grows
Like Perseus,  Our own heroes
We must now become
Slaying the beast at every turn

For like Medusa ,
Poverty is a dreadful Monster
With vices for hair
But not immortal

©Belema .S. Ekine

— The End —