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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1620468
by jaya
Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1620468
People? do they count?
Tasty Morsel

Who’d ever deny the juicy morsel
Dame Luck had placed in one’s mouth?

asked the wearied people of a frustrated
nation, their patience worth a fortune.

The leader promised power and water.
Years passed since the election.
The villagers waited with their
eyes on the highway, waiting
for the motorcade of their man
who won the election.

They read of his trips to the rich countries,
wheeling and dealing with higher-ups for power.
They were rightly proud of their native son
rubbing shoulders with world leaders.

So when they took a deputation to the busy man,
the minister, their leader in the hallowed
halls of parliament, his body guards barred them.
They, hence launched a protest for not letting them talk

The members of the group were locked away, later
chased off for asking troublesome, rational questions.
Gaining nothing from the frustrating experience,
they finally saw wisdom in cynical acceptance,

saying that it was his turn at the palaver,
to eat the “cake”, the opportunity to pocket
millions of nation’s money, and come up with
righteous indignation at the corrupt rulers of the past.

So they stayed in darkness,
waiting for another man,
perhaps a messiah to give
them light and clean water,

with an ability to say “no”
to the juicy, “tasty morsel”

Awarded Honorable mention in "Inspirations"
© Copyright 2009 jaya (vindhya at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1620468