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
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