The Politics Of Poetry Poem by Kenneth Maswabi

Poetry emerges from the pages of history
Dripping with ink that fill the pages of time
The uncertain future captured by the lone poet
Who sat on the stool of time and saw a bleak future
Wanting to escape back into his inhospitable dream
He dreaded the path of uncertainty that stood before him and his dream
The reality of his political course swallowed by his fear
He sat down and choked on a piece of his heart
Stumbling across a few words, he expressed his mind
On the stage of time, there are no spectators
All players are playing to win
And at the end of it all, the players are lost to the elements of time
Degenerating into a mound of dirt
That hides the hideous scars on their faces
Their life stories gone
Captured by their fleeing memories
The game of life is painted on mysterious clouds
That hangs on the heads of poets
Who dare opens the mystic book of poetry