A Season of Indigence

A SEASON OF INDIGENCE This drought and curse Of hand to mouth; An unrepentant encroachment of pauperism Impregnating our back country Discern, Our bigwigs in back country Stand aloof While, Season after season Millions of Pickneys Flourish with kwashiokor I, A son of the soil, A citizen of the world Peruse no light At the end of the tunnel Jet age swarmed us with gusto, An age when birds Learned to flutter incessantly Criss crossing the Atlantic and Pacific oceans Ushering in a pretence In social change Only to abscond With it's tail between it's legs Information age, Just stirred from it's slumber It's lazy eyes struggling to adjust To our flickering fluorescent Hard drive here....flash drive there..... Mouse click left....mouse click right.... Still, I see no light At the end of the tunnel Robots are now delegating affairs Our barns are empty Our children famished Poverty is now an opium of humanity Alas, Third trimester of harbor, now in labor, The Surgeon's predigious epidural hype Adjudged below the belt, still born!