This is my new poem and I really want to know people's view on this article especially the poet, all your opinion will be well appreciated, thanks in advance

The potter and the pottery

He moulds seemings leisurely but precise 

Slowly slowly, Gently gently 

The clay, merely rubbles suddenly arise

The earth is but a piece of clay.

In the hands of the creator, it stays 

He is the potter, moulding day by day 

While we grow under his loving gaze.

The potter creates the pottery 

From moulding with clay

Spinning it with the potter's wheel

But the pottery turns its back on the potter.

They live their lives growing like reeds

They acknowledge neither nature, nor the God of nature 

And when they fall, they blame others 

Realizing not the folly of themselves,

but that of their brothers.

Prologue

In the early 90's when civility was just coming into reality, A time when the people are unified as one, a time when people respected each other. Also, there were some people who are predators looking for preys, Imbibing infliction on the weak and oppressing the poor. The weak run at the voice of their oppresor, running helter-skelter for their dear lives, The 'ones' who are assumed as the brave who challenged the authority were silenced and this has further tightened the grip of the oppressors on the oppressed, the fate of the people is hereby determined by the oppressors, who will deliver the prey from the snare of the captive?

Join me as I unravel the story of Jaja the land of the oppressed.