I have been tasked with the responsibility to lace the delicate fabric of my country
and at times, I toy with it.
coaxing its future with ballots purchase from a one-time-meal ticket.
striking deals with its days and
crowning the history I have chosen to stay.

I am no stranger to the intended walls placed all around me
by the ghost of the passed.
nor am I a sojourner
for my ancestor were born and fell into chains in this land.
The same land kept unpaved and deprived
thick with mud and thicker with thieves.
From a worthy beginning of proudness and freedom
our demise proceeds.

Why should I ignore my instinct to survive?
when the eyes that accuse me, envies me
wanting me to think like them
but would be very much like me
if tasked on this path.

Our future I assume, is mine
and steadily inflates with cries of the market mongers
and that of the child left to find work, or else
left to die.
A scrutiny I comfortably become unaware of.

I know very well of my crimes
and very well of their accusation, that is a lie
and very well of the difficulties that separates
the truth from the lies, when it all brews in the cauldron
that is time.

Nevertheless, far be it from to me
to let them open my memories and
perceive my face,
to let them learn my alphabet and
understand my takes.
Far be it, that the blade of virtue
make an incision on this hide that is my skin
because those who stand naked are seen
and never wins, for that is not how
the game that decides all our fate is meant to be.