How is it that our country, Jamaica stands
On the left, but not on the right hand?
How is it that our country moves,
Through treacherous reefs, sailing through and through?
How is it that our country breathes,
These toxic fumes of crime and urban jealousy?
How is it that our country survives,
As more people go down to the Kingston tides?
Climbing higher to attain our goals,
Losing our souls at the scent of gold;
But what should we gain, for our Jamaican heroes pain?
How should we live as only their memory remains?
Disappointment and shame as we hang our heads,
Shielding our eyes as innocent blood spreads.
The weak have lost hope, and their faith in government turns to dust;
They ask, who shall lead them?
*Jamaican Poetry: Jamaica, Our Country
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