The Visitor

 Oh you pale skinned, thin lipped one

With the covetous eyes

Century after century you stride 

Across nations leaving trails of blood and gore 

The Congolese paid for your visit with the fractured arms of men, women and children,

Africans visited your abode like cattle, sold of and branded 

You took off one mask and wore another 

Self proclaimed superior  who survived from the teat of Africa and the backs of her children

You led and segregated 

Stole the lands and looked down  your noses as Africa broke and grew, grew and died, died and knew, knew and now fight,

You steely eyed thieves, dripping with lies, 

Providing the guns and bullets to brothers who fight and die for you the ghoul to steal their carcasses.

Your visit is the visit of the dead


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