I Am Bored With Politicians

Under sharp beams of mid- night moon, they assemble, Circling a community of champagnes relaxed on their eye-seductive tables. Carefully, diction are deciphered to trap us their prey With mellifluous words adored by political experts of the year Finally, they baptize and name them party manifestoes. A fiction of promises bind in powerful expression flows To be gently spilled on the debate ground With overwhelming nods from our fooled hands. Tomorrow, they ascend the desired throne And in trash cans, those art- caressed promises are thrown. Gradually, they rust like my old sports kits. Leaving us to drown with our cursing lips. As they secretly rough romance our economy and treasures Another anointed liar is on course for the next tenure. Written by Joseph Osita