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Poem

This might not be a pleasant flow of appropriate language
A somewhat complicated and abstruse diction
Maybe, a puerile illusion…
You think so?
Imagine and picture that clearly
Because if in our quest to achieve greatness and becoming self actualized
With an acute sensibility coupled with quickness of intellect
Adhering to forms and modes
Like an admirable mastery of technique
Then we rise and fall, most times, kick the bucket
Know it that the truth was sold and not told

Many of us want to go home
To see the smiles of our lovely mothers and hope in our fathers eyes
Share our joys and pains with siblings at home
But it seem almost impossible when the environment is too rigid, killing us all

We are exploited, underrated, neglected and marginalized
Daily, we lack money, food, guide, formal education and the dividends of true democracy
Hard to remove – toxins of hard drugs and frustrations in our heart’s arteries
Chiefly speaking to our minds
And that’s what we have been listening to
A voice as soft as cotton and soothingly amazing
Already, we have faulted religions and politics
None got the true ethics and codes to a fulfilled life
That was yesterday

Today, the politicians are speaking through the media
With their promises of white elephants
Hoping we rise and vote during election
While they will later ignore and abandon us
And that will be during job appointments, employments and selections
We meant nothing to them initially.

A Stewart Annie Everestus's poem © 2019

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