I find myself in spaces
Where my tongue cannot not dance
With our eyes wide shut
Reality is scorned
Only to be disguised as fiction,
Fiction as reality.
News! The paperboy glides down the street.
A time when my thoughts are limited
by campus thought-police
shaping our discourses,
Just as Orwell foretold
This narrative digs large heels in the sand.
A time when going against the grain
is seen as going against yourself!
Mediocre a vaccine to the pallets
crime, rape and murder howls in the wind,
Only remnants of it sticks to the monitors.
Truth lays scattered in the foreground,
Gathering on prison walls.
‘round mountains gathers noble circles of men
Knights unbeknown
Heads swaying to the best of names.
The ears and eyes collect dust.
Pages burn, the media footnotes.
Knowledge is castrated
Fat men sit suppressing,
Suffocating an end to all question.
As marionettes do
We twirl about our ticks & crosses on ballots
Decided upon on repossessed palace grounds, private islands or mega yachts
Retweeting our participation at a whim
Dancing to the tune of Democracy
– A gift anchored at our necks.
The only unquestionable truth!
These bleak times when insidious politicians
Care not of being seen or heard
Arguing vainly about nothing, nothing and nothing again
All the while their oligarch
Overlords shuttle about in country roads,
Inside convoys of pitch-black Mercedes Benz
And other less familiar modes
To the likes of you and I
A time, a certain Brutus, a certain Biko grew weary-of.
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