36 reads
Locked
citizens now hostages.
who joins the queue to make you king?.
Silence! Silence everywhere.
we have known you too well to be scared.
and since you’ve never been fair,
Go on! Go on!
make a monarch of yourself and lock ideas in the air.
descendant of the father of lies.
oh! how time flies,
the power you give, short-lived and the drink, corrosive.
sore throats our portion.
In the mist of abundance, our share is but a quarter,
while your belly stores the lion we needed to fat our twelve-pack
on plates filled with pedagogy in pieces under the manchineel.
the physicians can’t work on you but us.
gold mines clothed with rags from the stranger-man bin,
which you barter with the land’s bucks.
We see you can’t manage; Osagyefo must have lied!
©️Duncan Alidza