In my Country

In Nigeria's land of black gold,

The scent of oil is strong and bold.

But its presence leaves a bitter taste,

As most don't feel its prosperous grace.

The sight of the Niger Delta's green,

And the shining lights that brightly gleam,

Are marred by the curse of oil's sway,

That only enriches a few each day.

The feel of the wealth beneath our feet,

Is a tangible, yet incomplete,

Promise of a brighter future, yet,

For most, it's not been realized yet.

The sound of crying and lament,

Is a testament to the extent,

Of the harm the oil curse has caused,

Leaving so many people paused.

The taste of hope upon our lips,

Is bittersweet as the curse grips,

Our land, leaving us in despair,

While few can bask in its glare.

The curse of oil must be undone,

And prosperity shared by everyone,

Creating a nation that is fair,

Where the oil's wealth is truly everywhere.