Barren Garden

The land I stand on
no longer feels like home
It is a place where questions go unanswered
and needs remain unmet
It’s a place where days have taken their toll
and the people’s pain is masked
in hopeful silence
It’s a place where granaries yawn
scoffing the people’s hunger

This place doesn’t feels like home
It is where calls for revolution
are met with a resigned stare
Where the peasant and worker
are caught in the politician’s snare
It’s a place where sister and brother
have ceased to care

It no longer feels like home
For we’re tightly partitioned
by tribal separation
And there is sadness in mother’s eyes
as she awakes
to tend her barren garden

PoP © 2 Sep 07