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Horsemen



Did you hear the horsemen coming
I Africa have been burning since pestilence came knocking, riding on a brown horse
In he came walking, with the gifts of malaria for my children
They no longer reach five and those who do never get 25
Aids is waiting to give a real surprise
But am I really surprised?                                                                              
Why should I? When I got a cancer called corruption to spread  
Endangering the morals of the whole society
So don’t be shocked but, where I am from; the freeman drives the benz… the prisoner counts the cents, the whole society is bent… so who is going to correct the dent
Sometimes I look around and all I could see are weak men
Slaves to paper deeply held in its thrall… it is the song on our lips
The heartbeat that makes us whole
Yes we can see but our souls are blind

His brother war comes to visit from time to time, he is my permanent guest sometimes…
And he finds his favourite spots around my countries and cities
Weakened by hatred and greed,
He knows no boundaries or treaties…
But gun shots and spilling of blood/ spots from killings/ that are for reason
And there is no reason that he should even be here
When it is my neighbours children who are rich from my body parts…
So I cannot understand why I am boxing my shadow instead of walking with it
Hating those with tongues heavier and skin lighter than mine
When the sign of unity on my flag is painted in black
So these blood spots that stain our flag reminding us of freedom
Start to skink every five years as we start fighting for power
And we can feel it, the chains of cynism
The hatred when the heart flips
The red tears spilt and how they curse our land
My grandfather believes it is the sins of the fathers haunting the heads of their sons
He says that nothing really goes unpaid

On a black horse, I saw him Famine
Carrying the rewards for our freedom, the sad reminder that yes we are no longer slaves
But we sure are not free; we just tasted how it feels like
Now the rich man knows this… the poor man fights it
And the truth remains to be that the rich man’s justice is another poor man’s dream
But they are trying to fulfill those kind of dreams too
Giving laptops to children who cannot afford a glass of milk
And people have stopped listening… have grown tired of fighting
The poets are still speaking, but what can a poem do?
how far can it reach… lets test this poem
It is so easy to give up… but before I do
Let my words disperse 
Progress is based on the believe of a possibility and action put to it
We all should be walking toward great legacies
Leaving footprints for the generations to come to step in
But no we want to fly high up in the sky
Because we are freemen

Yes we won the war… but the battle is still on,
And we are blinded
So when the pale rider arrives on his white horse
He will crush us in his fits with a scream of victory 
Reminding us that broken dreams can never be mended as long as we remain blinded
Blinded by hatred and fear
Fear that robs us of this freedom
Freedom in this downside up world will always remain a dream ready be broken!
So,  we are all on a road travelling to our graves…
Still dancing to the tune of a broken flute… and there is nothing really to save
Trust this poem… we are not yet freemen and we don’t realize this



Politricks

© Namatsi Lukoye

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