Poem Hunter
Age Of Locust
UN (16th August / Benin city)

Age Of Locust

Poem By Uche Nwanze

We live in an age where the senile is no longer revered.
Indolence and thirst for dirty lucre is the image juvenile hearts crave for.
Sweat and toil no longer deserving of a living wage.
Hunger bites bitterly and rage has enveloped our atmosphere.
Leaders gleefully put those below the ladder on a cage of economic impoverishment.
To the heavens we look up to for a sage who will spring forth like a shoot so our chequered history and beleaguered nation will open a new page.

10: 45AM

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

Exactly that my friend. This is our world
Now we are living in the age of exhibition; if anyone can display his/her outside he/she is the better one // this age is now might is right age!