The morning after

The sun is up!
A bright new dawn,
Bringing renewed hope,
To all and sundry but me,
And my already hungry lot,
Beaten and battered!

Still rigid is the order of the day,
Same old guard,
Wearisome and oppressive,
Tired and clueless,
You can tell by the sound,
When it’s hollow in the middle.

After that unpleasant night,
Bereft of an election result,
Announced in the dead of the night,
When the watchful Offices were closed,
The international Observers sound asleep,
And the debunking Oppositions out of sight.

The afternoon was too unspeakable,
Right in the middle of the day,
Poaching, cooking from the outside,
Pressure build-up from the inside,
As the people start to fume,
Pacified only by the barrel of a gun!

It did not start yesterday,
No! It’s just a consequence,
Of dreadful past decades,
One disaster after another,
With a short-sighted helm,
Devoid of strategy and remorse.

More years of extreme melancholy,
Queues from dawn to dusk,
Scrounging like beggars,
Immigrants that no country want,
Back-to-back relentless trouble,
For a nation of abundant riches!

Author: nyobvo

Muremekedzi weShona rurimi rwamai

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