The Return of Our Masters
When the masters came breathing superiority
We became curious servants
They ruled us, they exploited us, they planted us
We cried, we laughed
They humiliated us, they enlightened us
We moan, we learn
And when they left because we clamoured
We celebrated freedom
Suddenly appear the masters again
But from among us
They redefine freedom in their context
And we hate freedom
They console us in harsher terms
And we become inconsolable
They exploit us until they extricate us
We mourn, we endure
They promise us the heavens, but in our dream
We see it fulfil
The dividends of our treasure they apportion to us
And in our grave, we recieve them
They offer us their acquired knowledge
But we clamour for transparency
They teach us the song of independence
On our lips they turn dirge
They speak the language of Democracy
And we discern Oligarchy
They teach us the principle of Federation
But the totalitarian version
If our former masters had not gone
We might have been taught better
We might have known better
We might have fared better
But with the return of our superfine masters
We are less than servants
Copyright © Akunna Olomi | Year Posted 2010
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