Writers 
A country full of dreams, and lacking trust,
When there are hopes of gold dug in dust.
Of progress under the sun, we sing;
But, when the race starts, we run round and round.
There is a hunger, while we have fertile lands;
We've got great brains but slow opportunity.
Ours is a river that runs, Ours is a land that's vast,Our rivers run, our soil is wide,
But poverty goes hand in hand.
We construct tall cities which stretch to the sky,
Beneath them break the roads of the earth.
We preach of unity, together we stand,
But tribes have parted our land,
Leaders say they'll change for words that are so sweet,
Empty pledges still abound on the streets,
The young have visions, courage and fire,
However, their aspiration is squandered by lack of employment.
Yet, in the shadow there is hope still,
Like the warm sunshine following the rain.
Our country is bruised, but not broken;
Its future is in our hands.
Let honesty and corruption depart;
Make justice and peace for all.
Enable all citizens to play their role,
Loving the country in every heart.
The contradiction is marring, though its message is sizzling,
We are the key to our hope.
A people are united when a nation changes,
Making today's difficulties into tomorrow's light.