180 Degrees Of The Blues

Conditions in Yemen's Marib Governate are deplorable
due to intense fighting in the region.
Photo Courtesy: UNHCR

What you won't do

When you found you

And your entire brew

Are on everybody's menu

It's not all good

In the hood when you

Are living on the darkside

Of the moon

Cast in a different light,

180 degrees of the blues

Squabbling in hell's backyard

Brazing the whole nine yards

Of a Stephen Kingesque massacre

Like gaslighting Attica

You're the last link

On the food chain

The life of the party,

Boiler room of the gossip train

In Marib Governate

We're bedfellows with hate

Cause we lost to fate

Smoke from the death wagon

Grays out our horizon

Fun died here

Slain on the streets

Like a dog offered to fear

We bleed endlessly

And care did wear

Off to despair.

Akpan