This category is about country poems. By that i mean poems about a country's politicians, economy, citizens etc. It doesn't have to be about a particular country. You can just replace the country's name used in the poem with your own country name if what is written in the poem resonates with you.
FIRST POEM
WE ARE AFRICANS
Sing me a subtle song
with an African tongue.
The melody of freedom
woven with wisdom.
A poem of emancipation;
obviously dark-in-complexion.
I want a liberating party.
A revolution without blood.
Only songs and ink will flood.
Let's slay this sick silence...
an apparent action is of essence.
Align with an African drum;
an acute agitation with decorum.
A slice of our mind;
nothing will be left behind.
One voice devoid of noise;
the ply of perfect poise.
Emergence of a new sunrise.
Our unity will forever suffice.
SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO
SECOND POEM
LAGOS TEARS.
SECOND POEM
The second poem is a poem about all the accidents happening in Lagos state, Nigeria. The souls and blood wasted on the road due to accidents which is caused by bad road or even traffic. If this poem applies to your state or country, just replace Lagos state with the name of your state or country.
LAGOS TEARS.
Bleeding ground;
no solution found.
The gushing of blood;
free flow of flood.
a profound pity.
Hurting haemorrhage;
a devastating damage.
Rain and tears;
the water never cares.
Swift sail of sorrow;
a threatened tomorrow.
Withering wealth.
deteriorating health.
A crying cloud;
our sobs seem so loud.
A plea to nature
to stop the torture.
Lagos bleeds...
It's at a terrific speed.
SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO
THIRD POEM
The sinister stroll of sorrow
that seems beyond tomorrow.
The pathetic patrol of pain;
footprints with a sad stain.
CHINONSO(SHARPIE:
The pathetic promises
now seen within tinted premises.
Hope now losing its taste, regrets
parading the streets with zest.
fall of the Titanic ship.
The poisonous fangs of failure;
there is no seeming cure.
Truth in a corrupt pan, now fries.
A toast to a postponed joy.
For their truth was just a decoy.
still they seem not to bother.
To them, remorse is just a ghost;
of their evil they boldly boast.
fear, my closest companion, I hold dear.
Sunrise starts my nightmare again
as I get scorched underneath it without gain.
Waiting on Hope for a rescue.
Only time can candidly heal
the piercing pain we feel.
Someday, we will swim in the sour soup.
Yes, time heals, so they say.
When someday, fate will make you pay.
SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO
FOURTH POEM
THIRD POEM
(A POETIC DIALOGUE.)
MOSES CYRIL:The sinister stroll of sorrow
that seems beyond tomorrow.
The pathetic patrol of pain;
footprints with a sad stain.
CHINONSO(SHARPIE:
The pathetic promises
now seen within tinted premises.
Hope now losing its taste, regrets
parading the streets with zest.
MOSES CYRIL:
A Failed leadership;fall of the Titanic ship.
The poisonous fangs of failure;
there is no seeming cure.
CHINONSO(SHARPIE:
Cure from the ills of lies.Truth in a corrupt pan, now fries.
A toast to a postponed joy.
For their truth was just a decoy.
MOSES CYRIL:
We are victims of their blunders;still they seem not to bother.
To them, remorse is just a ghost;
of their evil they boldly boast.
CHINONSO SHARPIE:
Trapped in this quagmirefear, my closest companion, I hold dear.
Sunrise starts my nightmare again
as I get scorched underneath it without gain.
MOSES CYRIL:
Our help is desperately due.Waiting on Hope for a rescue.
Only time can candidly heal
the piercing pain we feel.
CHINONSO SHAARPIE:
Karma knocking, we, locked in this time loop.Someday, we will swim in the sour soup.
Yes, time heals, so they say.
When someday, fate will make you pay.
SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO
FOURTH POEM
NATIONAL HAEMORRHAGE
I see no changes.
It's all calendar pages.
Everything is still the same;
failure garners more fame.
like a sexually perverted fowl.
Hunger still hangs around;
Death's reign is bound.
Corruption boldly boasts.
She brags from coast to coast.
Morals desperately decay;
the polity drowns by the day.
The spillage of blood;
corpses lie in floods.
Death toll on the rise;
now we fear every sunrise.
Democracy desperately bleeds.
The call of her grave, she heeds.
A hideous national haemorrhage.
What a pathetic political image.
I see no changes.
it's all calendar pages.
Everything is still the same;
failure garners more fame.
SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO
THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
FIFTH POEM
THE MIDNIGHT SUN.
Conscience without a shackle;
movement of an active ankle.
I speak with no hindrance;
confidence remains my fragrance.
A crack in the wall;
a nation about to fall.
The desperation of doom...
chaos candidly looms.
Unity stripped naked;
an apparent sheetless bed.
Shame boldly brags;
a national flag reduced to rags.
The tears of a polity;
joy is an obvious nullity.
The helplessness of hope;
the country hangs on a rope.
Light clearly seems lost...
dawn is a disappearing dust.
We need a midnight sun
to bring back the lost fun.
SUBMITTED BY MC SHAPIRO
What do you think about these poems? Tell us in the comment section. You can also see ALL COUNTRY POEMS in this blog.
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