THE CRY OF THE UNEMPLOYED Leaving the santuary gleaming sun We were confronted by a dark cloud There was no triumphant entry The dark cloud was mating with the sun With a big smile Like a cockreal chasing a hen She refused to be satisfied We had to sheath our degrees in shame We became strangers in our land Our degrees could not give us manner We are slaves, a khaki servant of the nation for 12 moons The glim on our face disappeared everyday that the moon slept Like a bee chasing a nectar casing our second rate degrees We became a legion of embattled combatants viewing The scarvengers of a future legion We slaved as our virgin palms became callous The howling of our stomaches Protested against our poverty The streak of the zebra Embody our minds As a Silhouette of scoffers dine to decide our Fate We lurch around in anticipation of An interview with pregnant vultures Who have been on the trenches since Independence We dont have 30 pieces of kobo to render We have no surnames And we have no Deliliahs We have been carressed by the sun We have been caked and baked by the sun Our wretched souls have paved way to despair But someday! someday!someday aluta will return with Gueno Yes Gueno! Gueno will spit out brimestone To crucify judas and his cohorts(government)
Posted on: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 02:32:03 +0000
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