Her Story (Africa)

This poem highlights the pain of Africa. It tells a story about how people think and feel about her without knowing she been thru. It also applies to our lives, how we are sometimes miss judged.

Let me tell you her story
Her story isn't a walk in the park of roses
Nor the pleasant sight of desert oasis
Though you might have heard whispers of the story being told
But were you there when her pride like cheap merchandises were sold?
Let me tell you her story
Down by the ancient fire side let us sit
Under the enchanted moon light let us wait
Oh, she fell in love with a man from a distant land
Who once walked the length and breadth of her sand
Filled with love she told him her mysteries
In perfidies he plundered her treasures
Let me tell you her story
Her story isn't a walk in the park of roses
Nor the pleasant sight of desert oasis
Naked and defiled she was left heart broken
In smiles he sailed away with what have taken
Painfully her son pulled away from her breast
Her daughters molested and rape just to say the least
Far away through the sea route they disappeared
Even the little you heard might sound weird
Let me tell you her story
Her story isn't a walk in the park of roses
Nor the pleasant sight of desert oasis
Taken away whilst bonded in chain
Yet in grief her body withstood the rain
From kowtowing in sinister snow
A new language she will know
Hear her out before you judge her
Feel her pain before you disown her
Let me tell you her story
Her story isn't a walk in the park of roses
Nor the pleasant sight of desert oasis
They called her names
Without knowing all her shames
From her voice echoed the freedom song
That would be sang long after she's gone
She knew that beyond the vast oceans of tears
Her sons will return with broken backs, her burdens to bear
By the fire side let us sit to conclude
I see tears in your eye, please don't cry
In a little while the long night would be o'er
You still want to hear her story?
Listen kinsmen that is our story
Let it sound throughout the ages
For our ancestors need to pay no wages
Her story is that of triumph
Next time look in the eye and call her AFRICA
You still want to hear her story?
Her story is not a walk in the park of roses
Nor the pleasant sight of desert oasis