A Baked Future.

Where is the future we are waiting for,
It has been baked and shared,
Men like us have drew map on it,
And shared it accordingly,
Each satisfying his own belly,

At the comfort of hid cushion chair.
Yet they stand at the pinnacle of the podium,
To birth raw lies,
Calling us the leaders of tomorrow,
And deceiving us with our future that has become there past,
Laughing hysterically into the microphone,
And filling the whole atmosphere with their barren saliva.

Our future which has become your past is what you promised,
You know your promises are the fruitless ideas of the past,
Why not tell us our national cake is your goal,
Rather than promising us a future that has been used.

Making us look like strangers on our fathers' land,
Making the government of the people become the affairs of a family,
Exposing the unborn generation to pugnacious men.

Your armpit is full of waters,
Leaking at the every junction,
Telling the world all of your evil deeds,
And exposing the shame you call honour,
Even if you have used our future ,

We still have our present with us,

And our present can still birth another future,
You should rather weep for yourselves,
Cos' we are done with our tears.

Caleb Bresh
Purpose driven poets, ANA, LADS.
*#16YearsAPoet*