[Maximus]

Exit
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Feel the pains of a young African man
The hardships will force you to make travelling plans
And move from the map of this land
Into another country, with a different anthem and flag
For greener pastures and a chance to advance
From ragged and trash to the status of haves
That's why we make moves like the transit of tramps
Airborne, seaborne or topographies with sand
Like the desert's irregular channels and paths
And become prone to predators, bandits and gangs
A passage with a plethora of hazards and traps
Where fellow adventurer's food rations are snatched
Anything just to get our living standard enhanced
We become stowaways in the catamarans
Long as we make it past the Atlantic intact
To interweave with new cultural tapestry strands