We woke up and staggered in the hissing wind,
Our chests ahead and noses in the cold
As we penetrate the morning dawn darkness.
Determined to make our contribution
In the exercise of free and fair elections
The queue grew thicker, the mood jovial and throbbing for change
For this time has come when we use these papers as a tool for change
We have braved the fear spatted by guns that have killed us for years
…as the hero in our midst only visits after five torturing years.
At the mercy and watchful eyes of the incumbent.
And over two decades down the stream, we are here once again
doing what we have done always - conducting free and fair elections
mobilized, sweating in the sun, biting, burning and succumbing to our wounds thereafter
And as the day closes its eyes…. gun shouts roar in the air
The wind smells bloody, agents bleed under their bellies
And the heavily and ghostly guarded ballot boxes disappear in the dark
The next morning we lie back onto where we have been rotting in last decades
Enjoying security and freedom under the fair and popular rule of our selfless leadership
We only read his mouths on the newspapers, torn in our poverty and hunger
And wrap ourselves in the comfort of our illegal, unpublished murmurs
Eagerly waiting for our part to play
In the next free and fair elections.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its pity that Africa is in the throes of plitical rape and debauchery. All the same we will not loose hope. Nice poem, keep writing and read my poems