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

God is not everything
He is not the spelling of the devils lie
He is not the cloth of weakness you put when the unwanted stranger called sickness knocks at the door of your health.
He is not the hate speechs that are been hurled minutely  in the space of social media.
He is not the smile the politicians put on after delivering their bags of deception through trucks of manifestos
He is not the hurricane that sweeps the homes of poor people upgrading them to another stage of poverty called homelessness
He is not the cry of a malnourished kid who as a result of lack of adequate bread has made him look like a goblin in a fictional piece
He is not the hopelessness dwelling on the face of idp camp dwellers
He is not the trauma of a lady who is barely 18 but has experienced forcefully the process that lead to her existence
He is not the sound of the explosions caused by the device worn by some religious fanatic that rip blood,water and flesh from  beings
He is not the complaint of a school child who has been sent home not because he wasn't fit for learning but because his parents were not fit for paying for the pedagogical services their child has been receiving
He is not the depression of a jobless grauduate hopelessly roaming a mega city with his First Class papers.
He is not the memoir of a woman who has just lost her child and her child's father in one day
He is not the addiction of a smoker seeking happiness from sativa and indica,believing to roll up his problems in paper as he lights them up with  a lighter.....
God is not everything