"UNTITLED"

My mama thinks that when i graduate i will do something great,
but my heart knows it has a little to expect,
because the system is fake
and nowadays a group of people can decide your fate,

how many people enjoy the national cake?
the diamonds, the gold
the wild in national parks and the fishes in the lakes,
the minority takes over the majority.... for God's sake!!!

how many benefit through the education we get?
the strikes, the poverty, the teacher's scarcity,
do we need something we really get?

i graduate, but im told i miss experience,
they say i lack the worker's quality,

to employ myself is the other option i take,
the taxes are so high and
the payments are so low,
how much profit will i make,

going out in the street people say i rob,
is it because i dont have a respectable job,
my soft mind sob, but my strong heart knows it
has to ease the mind and wipe the sob,

this system has developed some
channels in which water flows in it,
if u aint on the channel then,
you are on the opposite part of it,
 the part where people hustle, struggle and fight,
and its depending on seeing the fruits of it,

the part where people are forced to see success as a stranger,
so sometimes they pretend to be God's messenger...

is there truth in media anymore?
they transmit negative propaganda through what they show,
what will my kid know?
the fancy music in the redio,
have made us their victims,
and the fancy videos in the T.V's
have changed the system,

they will conquer every land but dont let them conquer your MIND,
they will go deep in every mine but never let you be undermined,

who trust the politicians anymore?,
Mr.politics you fight for my vote to lead me?
or bid me and lead my resources?
what you always do leave me with no choices,

how many care on if im concious and aware?
because many judge me on what i wear,
our eyes trust far lies,
but they fake the truth which its close,

to others will see they are right,
but the wise will know they need something right,

i hope my Mama willl understand what i say,
and she will prove this one day,
and when she ask me to say one word about what i said
i will tell her mama this poem is "UNTITLED"

by Peter Arsenal Mboye on Wednesday, January 9, 2013 at 3:17am ·