Broke African son

I am an african child with a troubled journey to success,A cursed spirit that lacks faith for its own creator because I carry a heavy a** dark cloud of fear for my own ancestral chosen path ever since religion forced me to turn my back on real african culture. Would someone look at what these boat man have done to my people. It is known that my land has resources that generates billions if not trillions,but still the streets of africa generates the highest rate of poverty in the world.
Each time I try a shoot at success,I find myself faced with way to many laws and beliefs that keep me squeezed on that same street corner like street names permanently placed there to give out directions to other people's designated spots in life.
Son of an african but raised by the system which installed a program inside my head that continuously kept programming my mind to be more of a commercial beggar to society until their beliefs made me less of an african,the day I turned my back on the gods that were sent on earth to protect me and my family from all evil. So I wake up everyday of my life,making sure that the sweat on my forehead is enough to put food on table because it is not funny living poor in this rich world,reason why a broke man never shows his teeth around these streets not even for a selfie. -Prince Moretsi,south africa

This poem is about: 
Our world


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