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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