Barking orders from behind a
shiny mahogany table
' Bring me my . . . . . .
Where is Mr. . . . . . .
You **** fool , how many times
will i have to tell you. . . . . '
Spinning left and swinging right in
a fluffy comfortable white chair-
Let ' s not talk about the shiny cloths
he wears-
While his people wreath in abject
poverty
I call it white - washed kind of
slavery
Their faces say it all
But he is always cold and calm
His Italian shoes keeping him high
and fine
His words meant life or strife
Pain or gain
Wage or cage
To an extreme , sometimes even
death
A fitting representation of fear and
dread
To him laughter is reproach
And painful groans applauds
So that all that brought joy was
destroyed
And the painful restored
All in the ploy to keep us confined
To a ' ran ka ya dade ' kind of songs
But in all his plots this is where he
flawed
He left the pet hungry for too long
So that the once tamed sweet thing
began to growl
Instead of the sweet songs she use
to hum
Until the growl grew into a roar
No one is meant to have that power
No one is meant to have that power
No one is meant to have that power
So the hour came for power to
change hands
And the exchanged brought it
change
All the people' s pains began to
wear
And their fears were no longer
there
Even the sun ' s smile grew wider
And our mothers' sweet songs got
louder
Now instead of barking orders
opinions are sort
Instead of " i want it all"
It is "let us all have it"
And no longer a one man ' s calls
I remember this silly story once
told
A couple of men went to a salon
Ordered equal amounts of the same
***
Drank down and called out for
more
They all drank equal ration
Same in proportion, equal in all
dimensions
Until it was time to return home
Then this reality dawned
One was too drunk to walk on his
own
So that the other had to carry him
home
Such is the case with power
Allow two people equal amounts of
its shower
And certainly one will be more
drunk than the other
Becoming a magnet that either
attracts or repels
From all this story , this is what i
hoped to tell
This myopia i hope to correct and
this notion dispel
That all men are wired for power
Power is neither a cap for all heads
Nor one for all men
No wonder some act dump then
It is because they don ' t belong
there
For a man to fittingly man this seat
The man must be one fit for it
Oh , and by man , i mean women too
We must then be true as we choose
But sadly our prejudiced and
biased minds
Makes us compromise
And structural demise ? that is
certain
No more self- deceiving lies .
Setting the wrong man to rule is
like setting the sun against the
moon
Cos soon there won ' t be a sun nor a
moon
All there will be is just gloom
So shake off the blindfolds
And loosen the strong holds
Of ethnic chains
Tribal veils
And religious scales
Which are all pluses to our pain
There is no more room for miss fits
Power is a cap only for those it fits