(A satirical cry and criticisms on man and society)
My fingers are always on the drum
To beat and produce sounds of truth
And carry my will like a messenger bird
To all the ears that hear
***
When I fight for my freedom
I achieve unbreakable silence,
When I fight for my infringed rights
I’ve chosen to graze on gold mine,
I can hear the echo of silence stings
When the drum of truth bangs and bites
***
I know the sound of gun when it goes off
And the wits of pen when it writes,
If I can see the hand of corruption
And yet fail to cut it off
Have I not failed my conscience?
If I’ve allowed the footprints of injustice
To continue on the sands of time
Have I not hurt the history’s timeline?
***
Henry Chukwuma (c) Feb 2021. All Rights Reserved