In halls of power, they gather and grin,
African leaders, masters of spin,
Promises flow like a river's course,
But truth be told, it's all a mere photo-pose.
"Climate change!" they cry, with feigned despair,
While clutching their seats with utmost care,
Speeches rehearsed, as if on cue,
But real deeds undone, that much is true.
They jet-set to summits, plush and grand,
While the continent's plight slips through their hand,
In air-conditioned rooms, they debate and stall,
As outside, the earth's death knells call.
The land once lush, now scorched and dry,
As forests burn and rivers run dry,
Yet politicians dance and pretend,
Their eyes on power, their hearts won't mend.
Floods ravage homes, fields, and dreams,
Yet their actions fall apart at the seams,
They promise aid, but it's never enough,
Leaving communities in the rough.
Oh, the irony of it all,
As they watch the continent's downfall,
Their duplicity, a bitter pill,
As Africa's fate they seem to fulfill.
Desolation looms, a future bleak,
Yet they turn a blind eye, week after week,
Their legacy tarnished, for all to see,
A scorched earth, devoid of glee.
So, heed this warning, leaders bold,
The consequences, in time, unfold,
For when the continent lies in waste,
It'll be too late, to amend the haste.
About Author: Kevin Makova
Comments