The Parable Of A Good Yellow Man Poem by alexander opicho

one time in the land of poverty and starvation
where hunger loomed like the spirit of God,
Even Itself starved itself often on the thin vials
of the black stomachs, colonies and esophagus,
of these poverty crashed men and women
denizens of this land ever wondered why,
hunger and challenges where their stuff?
they had nothing at all to stake the selves,
mothers were beggars as fathers did,
pangs of hunger even made them dark
in their skins with excess melanin,
These conditions made their foster mother
to yap her white beak cacophonously,
in the ecstatic syndrome of colonial glory
she was happy as they suffered, day in and day out,
she even made the possibility food
for these foster children of hers an illusion,
she forced them to speak her tongue
as a magical secret to have enough food
they tried the tongue but they could not make it
because prime motive was colonial tricks,
not salvage of any standard nor measure,
the foster mother came again with a new ploy,
that she could give them food or Ebola drugs
if only their men had to marry fellow men
and their women must marry fellow women,
they tried and they shrank in numbers
a new opportunity for the foster mother
to become metaphysically a colonial mother,
Only to loot the minerals, wood, land and slaves
slaves taken on vicious green card lottery boat,
then their chanced a yellow man, but not as foolish
as the one Dalai Lama, the poet of prolixity
He empathized with the black poverty,
he felt for the Nation of this beggars,
he cried Woooooo! these people are suffering!
This poverty is pathetic and sorriest!
he took all the Ebola patients and hunger victims
to the herbal medical clinic nearby
He also gave the beggars of that nation
iron horses on which they ride as they beg
hence the saying that; Behold the last wonder,
kings are walking of food and slaves riding
kingly horses.