Wiping the sweaty pods
Trickling down our faces,
We say to ourselves
It was a scorcher of a day.
We’re denied of what we deserve
To the extent that
Free education has a tuition price tag,
And our transportation leaves us dejected and sad.
Soon another campaign is brought bare
And another name we hear
With new and different promises in the air
For a term is about to end.
It’s only in politics someone who passed
Is allowed to repeat a class.
There are promises all over
To be our painkillers,
Wipe our tears,
Eradicate our sorrows and fears.
They vow to alleviate poverty
Provide job opportunities
They further tell us they’re the people’s man
Tested and trusted.
“All they want from us is our share of responsibility
And everything would become possibilities”
With placards and posters
We express our choice.
We queue for renewable permanent voter’s card,
Hoping our thumbs would speak our hearts.
Come rain come sunshine,
They bear the cost,
We bear the frost.
We fervently pray
Yet we end up as preys.
We hope to sing songs of praises
But we perform dirges written by greats.
We say in our hearts we failed!
It was rigged! Our votes did not count.
The tribunal of the supreme court
Becomes our last hope
Like the last spot kick during shootout.
Ek Tiger inked Democracy in my Country: Electoral Parlance.