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Continent of Death



Sitting in my room in America,
I think of that place they call Africa.
A reign of terror that's transafrica.
Information age suffering made stealth.
A place forever stricken with Black Death.
A bastion of gold that produce no wealth.
Entire nations die of starvation.
The world does not aid their preservation
We close our eyes to their depravation.
Humanities most horrible nightmare,
A somber real life Malthusian nightmare.
Sadness makes it seem a fable to dare.
Enamored in a vile culture of famine, war, and plague,
Life and any future prospects of life always look vague.
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Submitted on April 30, 2011

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