The deafening sound of the car horn, brings a chill to my veins
The echo of the empty room
Ruminates in my head
The bright and macabre day looms ahead
The captivity of my freewill beckons
With my tightly knotted tie
And smoothly ironed shirt I set out,
In the delusional hope of maybe one day
I will bask at my bank account, marvel at my arts collections,
My mansion and my fancy rides
With finesse and garb I set out
The okada rider exclaims "idiot! You blind?"
The pregnant market woman,
Lost in the dysphoria of last night slaps and punches
From her husband stares pitifully at me
My sanguine aura starts the day
But ends it with despondency
After ceaseless search and unrest
I’m back to another miserable existence
An existence of hell on earth
How did I get here?
I need a hiatus from this cursed land
The land beseeches for fruitfulness
Take us back to the time
Of the first man and the first woman
My belly makes a beautiful rhythmic noise
The bus driver toils day and night for crumbs
But can’t stop
The conductor calls and screams
For places he cannot afford to live
Yet, he screams
The first-class graduate returns home
With rotten oranges and quashed hope
But still sets out
The Adroit man have exhausted his chest beating skills
To be in control
But still puts up with the facade
Where did they all go wrong?
The home for all and land of the dreamers
The land that has tasted the blood of the wretched
Swallowed the sweats of the able-bodied men
Sucked all their vigor and aspirations
And put out the fire of dreams,that burnt in their invigorating eyes
And awakened them to the realization that
The land is only for the strong willed and rugged
It is where the strong thrive and the weak turn to vapour
It is for those who want to leave a mark
It is the land where "hustle" never relents, rest or retires.
by SalewaBabs