We have been waiting
Waiting for the fruition of the promises
Of the dividends of democracy
Every passing day lengthens our hope
Like a shadow in the evening sun
And the promises again broken like an earthenware
Scattered in the sun.
A promise made with tongue
Finds fulfilment only in our ears
As our eyes view a void
Of undulating promises rolling in the land
We thirst to sear our tongues
We walk to stumble with our legs
Still the noise of promises ring
Unfulfilled in our ears
The promises have grown some wings
And flown and soared like the eagle
And our hope returns home
To our rooky house where
Our right or left thumbs lay a siege
And wait for he who promises and fail.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem