The Urge
The urge
For we been equipped fellow citizens of
Motherland, Africa she sang of, Poetic is
It justice? just ice frosting dreams, hopes
Parliament a breeding citadel of perverse
Codes that terms us labourers in our land.
Gazetted reforms that impairs our virtues
And moralistic principles of being, rejected
By those with all the mighty through veto,
How lame I voted him in for betterment
Of the kin, weary leaving in the cold street.
My ails heals from their white precipitates,
Inscribed by a solo individual, dual turns a
Taboo yet granny always had crushed roots
The ails would shy... Boots, books, and tie
Paper wetting from the drips of enslavement
Hunting modernized but the parliaments left
In great chaos, adaptation of the scripts left
Us this urge, The urge to revolt, yearning...
Codified practices that are never followed by
The sire, a new mutant foe in make, Change.
5 January 19
Lowlifediarist
___________________***________________
Vultures
No wonder why I have this naked head
These weak claws, Neither have I ever
Wondered why I feed chiefly on carrion
Rotting carcass dressed by fellow humane
Ages past starving, preying, pitying shame.
Carrion bird been termed, so wary I envy
The keen and noble eagle whose social unit
Portray efficiency and tranquility in plays
How he is gifted in soaring up highs spred
He preys on fresh flesh, he hustles nothing.
Vultures we been cased by mother nature
For we toil yet others birds emblems might
We long for the deprived freedoms, denied
And fed on their remains. Avarice being no
Shame for no honor is related to my name.
Black birds whom seize by violence, preys
Like us, feeds greedily stood forth our Sire.
Corrupt ravens whom disperse parliaments
Owls on the watch, waiting to grace thier
Chance too, damned birds of disgust, cursed.
5 January 19
Lowlifediarist
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