The Land of the Peasants: Logan Town

Daniel Rightman Badom

the bible says the earth is the lord’s and the fullness thereof,

but in logan town, the fullness is a heavy, rusted lid

it is as though the land eloped with its own atmosphere,

tucked away in a pocket of gray where the sun is hidden

here, the divine inheritance is measured in grime,

and the fullness is the weight of a forgotten time

the dirt piles up like files on the desk of a procrastinating secretary

mounds of dust and debris, ignored and left to grow

unorganized, unread, a landscape of the temporary,

where the records of our suffering are the only things to show.

every alley is a folder stuffed with what the world forgot,

a frantic, filthy ledger of the things left here to rot

this is the land of the peasants, or so the wealthy say,

the soil has lost its ancient, holy decree

the sovereign embassy for mosquitoes,

granting visas to the fever, while the residents are never free

the buzz is the only law, the sting the only sign

that we are citizens of a place the world has left behin

the bible talks of God healing the land with a gentle touch,

but the wounds of logan town are deep and filled with silt

a whispered prayer or a soft word will not amount to much

when the very foundations are heavy with neglect and guilt.

it will take heavenly injections and a celestial drip

to mend the broken spirit and the land's decaying grip;

a divine surgery to drain the swamp and clear the file,

to find the Lord’s fullness beneath the peasants' pile

Bio: Daniel Rightman Badom is a Liberian author, spoken word poet, and architectural designer. A civil engineering student at Stella Maris Polytechnic University, his writing bridges technical discipline with emotional storytelling. He authored the manuscripts I, Liberia and Ashes Beneath the Cotton Tree, focusing on social advocacy and national identity.