
02/02/2024
Poem:By Isaiah Joseph Gbainhea
TITLE: LIBERIA THE LAND OF RICHES AND POVERTY.
In a land of riches, so full of grace,
Where nature's gifts once adorned this place,
We dreamt of timber, towering and grand,
Of gold and diamond, precious in our hands.
But oh, what happened to our natural store?
Our treasures vanished, forevermore.
Foreigners came, like thieves in the night,
Looting our resources, causing endless plight.
Our leaders, they watched, turning a blind eye,
As our wealth was stolen, without a cry.
Only a few, they say, enjoy the feast,
While the rest of us suffer, burdened by the least.
What became of our education, so dear?
Our health sector, once held so near?
Our security, our agriculture's might,
Our national heritage, now hidden from sight?
If only our national cake could be shared,
Equally across the sectors, we declared,
We would rise, united, to reach the top,
But poverty is our central name, it won't stop.
We are rich in Liberia, blessed by God's hand,
Yet poverty grips us like sinking sand.
Aliens prosper on our sacred ground,
Oh, Liberians, why do we allow this to be found?
When will we benefit, as citizens true,
When will justice prevail, when will it ensue?
When will foreigners cease their abuse,
And stop claiming our government they seduce?
When will we have access to quality education,
While our leaders' children seek foreign nations?
When will we stand tall, with knowledge profound,
Instead of being silenced, voiceless, and bound?
The time has come, dear Liberians, to rise,
To reclaim our land, under the sunlit skies.
Let us unite, hand in hand, heart to heart,
And demand our rights, let our voices impart.
For we are the custodians, the children of this soil,
Our natural resources should be our own to toil.
Let us stand tall, with courage and might,
And restore Liberia's glory, shining bright.