Death Of A Child by Clemence Chinyani

Image - guardian.co.uk 

A child was killed,

A little boy,
A son,
His body was burnt,
His crime?
It was time,
To vote for a new president,
Who would extol no-one,
But himself,
Make it rich and,
Shit on everyone,
While his troops make merry,
And the rest of us wept.