Out goes the night and the break of dawn welcomes a brand new day, another chance to make a change to the world. A chance I am only afforded to act upon whilst in the comfort of my blankets as if it is the climax of a night filled with dreams which shall never get to witness reality.
My life is wrapped around striving to make ends meet as I struggle each day to find sustenance and get the strength to keep this monotonous circle of my life rotating with the hope that maybe tomorrow these poli-tricking politicians shall come with solutions that may uplift the pathetic life I live under their rule. Each day they promise that their tricks shall produce results but alas no, they produce more sweat from which they feed upon their ego. Pot bellied they come to address my plight, dressed smartly in fancy suits having a joy ride in their expensive cars from their spacious homes whilst I am dressed in rags and tatters announcing that I am the real owner of this nation, a warrior and I deserve more but as they soon open their mouths to pile promise after promise I recall that this song has been played over and over again, it even plays in my dreams as I slumber to give this broken body a time to rest and be at peace.
The church gives me comfort stating that I must endure my present sufferings as they is joy where I am to go when the creator calls. Curiously I ask if they have been there, for the picture they are feeding my imagination is too good an image. The only answer I get is to rely on faith of the promised land and they continue to dig in from their paint book to feed more images to my mind but this really doesn’t even scratch the surface of the answer I am looking forward to rather more doctrine is thrust down my throat. Calls to seed into the ministry follow-up this subtle gospel of the unknown kingdom awaiting my arrival. I can only dig into my holed pockets for the last dime holding my place in society in hope I can get this gate pass to the so-called promised land free of any suffering and sorrow, as failure to part with this dime condemns me to eternal punishment. Proclaiming the good news I am robbed and the minister drives off in a more expensive car leaving me to suffer as to get sustenance. I aim to get his audience thinking maybe he can offer me the route to success but to my horror I am deemed not worthy of his presence. Come to think of it this is the same person who took my hard-earned dimes with promise of engaging in a conversation with the creator to heed of my plight. Head bowed down in shame I walk away, “this god they speak of, they preach of, must be a god of the rich only” thoughts invade my mind pushing me to the edge of insanity.
I aim to protest this and get geared up to voice my cries letting known that I enjoy not this predicament and I am hoping that the politician shall take heed and in his bid to preserve the little essence of humanity that is left in him he shall alleviate the conditions of my existence and allow me to take a little of sweat to my bed and lead a better life. The plan has been put in motion and pursue the blessing of the gospel minister little known to me, him and the system I intend to fight bed together. I am told the big man does not condone violence and that they are more peaceful ways to solve the situation. Disappointed and dejected I realise Politricks feeds off the church and the church minister in return partakes in suppressing my rebellion against unfair treatment and pathetic living conditions. I offer cries of a wounded dog as I rush back to the comfort of my kennel and hope that one day these cries shall be heard.
I watch the horizon as sunset approaches and for a moment there I am rooted gazing at its beauty, all low self thoughts disappear for a moment but the trance does not last long as thoughts of electricity being turned off before I prepare food for my stomach which spent the whole day feeding off its own juices prompts me to rush and try beat this race against Electricity.
Night has come and I am swallowed in darkness and I am at peace with these demons visiting my bed for I know they give me the strength to chase after sleep and visit my dreams with tears filling my eyes and soul….
these are the silent cries of a suffering public…