THE DAY OF THE PIG

Let’s talk about the system and all the bullshit too

Telling a grown ass man to stand behind another grown ass man

When the same man can’t stand ground for himself

His inner coat pocket lined with a brown parcel

Thieves busy stoning another thief

Judas offering and tithing in the cathedral

And yes he’s godsend

“So and so is the man and he will be”

the poll says...

What do you think you telling us Mr. old wise duck?

You never get out of your expensive cocoon

To feel this midday blaze

Learned but still drowned in the evil haze

Are you a prophet or just another mad man pretending sane?

Do your homework “dad”

Get out of my sphere

Coz its clear in between my visions and yours there’s a lot to fear

You can’t make me want what you want

I’m no longer the ant under your sole

So stop pretending your good is for my soul

When the earth I sole on is grabbed and sold long gone

You not Moses, you feared the burning bush and never removed your shoes

Yet you wanted to leave that legacy under your feet

Politics of the father in the era of the son

Acting as the leader of the pack yet you feared to attack the sheep

Now you a wild sheep feasting with the wolves

Drinking the soup

throwing us the dead bones

but remember dead bones make music too

Coercing us into empty boxes

My two pennies into ballot boxes every time you desire a course

stuffed into your puffed pockets

bee busy on nothing in your docket

trying to make my future bright

when  you switch off my lights

forcing me to reward you with tokens

leading me to a holy abattoir

using the constitution to hide the blood stains on your repertoire

this is the justice

when the bench men are your henchmen

F** the N.W.O,

 F** the clogged pipes you make us drink and bath from

lies and illusions are the bedrock of the scriptures that few chosen that you mingle with read from

stale the anointing oil

death ultimatums

bullets got people in cells where they can’t tell

how are the people the power when their leaders are the cowards

where do fools run to when in front of the devils gun barrel?

speaking of liberation

cuffed by realities and situations

it’s all money and power

everyone wipes their mouth after a meal

for mama said it’s good table manners

I guess we have to wash our hands every now for health purposes

They blind you shaking hands

When behind doors they exchange clasped hands

Oh god liberate my soul from the coward souls

That sway to the lowest Beaufort’s scale

Shooting me with their ideological scatterguns

My future frying in a pan

Can’t even brag of the soil to be a son

Selling me gas and rays of the sun

Stop kissing the nun

And I’ll not blow the pun

I’m not your fan

 I’m a player

Your tackle against mine

Manipulated referees

Lights, camera, action

Even when there’s no power on

I’m fed up with the sewer tubes emptying into the media

Beware am not your card reader

Am talking to you Mr. infamous leader

Praising the jackals when my neighbor is ostracized

Nose under the barrel

Handing me a barium meal

Am doomed to see the flowers bloom

Wondering if I’ll ever paint a beautiful picture on gods’ canvas

before I inhale the black powder

As the screams of life get louder

Times we all too dead to discover we alive

And feel the reverberations of a hunger dying nation

Where only for the poor it’s rationed with insidious rationale

Every day is the pigs day

 fry the fat one for the rice stew

for every skinny kid with a dream .