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Quack Mechanized Presidency
I neither care nor bother about perfection
On all their faces I actually see otherwise
On strange machines I have found myself
Bolts and nuts intertwined in mazes
Detailed guide too long to comprehend
I posses little education to even recite
So we go on trying, guessing and fondling
Hoping the cure will come somehow
Amidst breached procedures and advice
Get the car moving: most essential task
Those unusual sounds I’ve learnt to ignore
Wish it away and it exists no more
Of course, they all must be wary of me or learn
Yet they foolishly follow even when I warn
I know choices are limited and you must come again
I pray you don’t imagine my ability to guess
When you do guess, what can you do?
After all, I am king even when we all blind
Nobody trained me; nobody checks me
I am not different from the president to the councilor
Riding on the crest of power in mediocrity
Years of guessing cannot make perfection
Where excellence belongs only to thieves
Equipped with sophisticated tools not in the books
Dismantling and reassembling chaotically
Translating cries as sounds of excitement
As failed, bungled machines drive governance
Alas I am in stiff context with my Oga at the top
These politicians ridicule my feats
I should vehemently cry for them that trust me
I worry even when I know they should
At least I am better than the men in the corridor
I still posses the capacity to think and trouble
My competitors are better than I can ever be
Copyright ©
Bishop Ezeh
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