Humanitarianism
I’m a black child
Born in a dead place
With lifeless complexion
All of me dries and deceases.
Eaten by Hunger
Swallowed By thirst
Infertility and Drought
My fruitful trees.
Born to deadly live
Live to momently wait
Wait my turn to die
In front of your humanity.
Socalledpoetry of Biba
So-called Poetry of Biba 