In Creek's depths, where shadows play,
I nurse a dream, a doctor's sway,
But labels bind, a militant's stain,
Opportunities scarce, like summer rain.
No scholarships shine, no libraries stand,
No labs to explore, with curious hand,
Fishing's fate, pollution's dark design,
Water's poison, my soul's entwine.
I wake, I sleep, in darkness dire,
Oil pipes weave, a treacherous fire,
No roads lead out, no lights ablaze,
Yet still I rise, in Creek's gaze.
They call me militant, a name that clings,
But I claim pride, in Creek's worn rings,
My heritage, my heart's deep core,
For Creek's future, I'll fight once more.
I'll live for Creek, I'll die for Creek,
For education's key, for justice unique,
A better tomorrow, I'll stake my claim,
For Creek's voice, I'll bear the flame.
~Enoch Emomotimi Akamu
