Sand for breakfast
Tasted no better than shit
I don’t beg for alms anymore
I just snatch it

My mother’s tears
Son I did not bring you up to be a thief
Mom you didn’t raise me to suffer in poverty, did you?
I just want some relief.

Sometimes they look out of their cars
Our eyes meet
I wonder if they ever wonder
If I know the taste of meat.

If I were in their shoes
Would I mean nothing to me
If driving by I saw me chained by poverty
In a system that benefits only me.

– CHE CHIDI CHUKWUMERIJE.