A my country

Figured I’d write a poem for my country.

“A my country.”

An a My country, a dis one yah
Jamaica, a so mi fling mi heart
back, Wedda gunshot a lick inna
attack, ar home wid Ratbat, J.A
I my origin dat
But a weh do di Government dem?
Weh a Rape mi people, leave dem high an
dry, an a pray to God by di steeple
Lock off, an ban di music weh talk
di truth bout’ di Garrisons, an
corruption, is a straight abduction
mi island inna, an di thugs dem
a explode like eruption
An a shame, cah artist a get a lickkle fame
So dem use Gaza man an Gully God
as di scapegoat to blame
Cuttin up di modda land, death looka
Wi bleeding more dan just bauxite an sugar
Pickney weh wi raise up, a help di murder rate
raise up, an a kill inna mawning when di sunlight
rays up
Modda cry, di fadda die, dem nuh have no one
fi seek, but a invisible man weh de yah inna sky
Informa an di Government man shock mi,
Dem nuh know how much dem a dig
into di surface, country a sink
de pon di brink
An tings a change at light speed
so youth, no bodda blink
Cause’ as soon as yuh do dat
Every weh done up, an wi loose di
backkle, cah memba seh, physical slavery
is a wi mind, weh a lock up inna shackle
An of course wi own bredda an sista wi tackle
but one day wi a go rise up, from di trash of
dis dump truck
At dis rate, sweat an tears isn’t enough,
we need more love, an even more luck.



About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
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