My home, Africa.
The journey was made the spirit came to peace.
Home at last, a yearning, finally a reality.
Home coming not so sweet, those to cheer me on were so fast asleep.
Their off springs know not of me, my journey home ,bitter sweet.
To no avail I must carry on, does it matter if they remember me, a replica of my Ancestors, I will live on. 

I was robbed by my own kind a brother in the Diaspora.
I am determined to continue to find my place, my little spot here at home.
Obosomase a place to stay, settle my root to spring again.

Education it is, to teach you, who I am, recognize me as a reflection.
Plans to execute, a school to build, it's a difficult journey, no one to assist without receiving compensation. Do they not see the dream, do they not recognize who I am. Do they not recognize that we must unite for mother Africa to live on. It is coming and sooner than we think, the United States of Africa is on the rise.

My sisters and brother of the Diaspora hear my cry, I have journeyed hard to built my part. To educate we must do, open their eyes we are not Americans. We are their reflection, off springs of the Ancestors.
The Ancestors made it home, look  within me and see the Ancestors who were plucked from mama Africa's  bosom. I have to journey on, do my part, stand firm even though I am feeling the pinch of the robbers, the selfishness of my brothers, I must continue on.

My faith is way beyond the size of a mustard seed, therefore we will fellowship, we will unite we will come together as a united Africa.
I have expressed some of my inner.
I am, Nana!