The beautiful ones are born
But they are like caged birds
Whose wings are clipped
And their feet tied
They only sing to themselves hymns of hope
Like a pregnant woman expecting a baby.
The beautiful ones are born
To claim their rights
Like the ‘Native Son’
But they are only heard of suffering
When they are beaten like bàtá drum
But still hope for better life.
The beautiful ones are born
But in their claim for egalitarianism
They take to protest
And the ugly ones lay ambush
The ugly ones through their mercenaries
With their sabre-tooth
Truncate the beautiful ones’ ambition.
The ugly ones are born
Like free birds in the air
They can be seen and heard
But humanity feels not
Their positive impact but negative ones
When they make fishing Peter’s net tore –
The beautiful ones toiling turn toy
In the hands of the ugly ones
Just ’cause they went home empty hand.
The ugly ones are born
To swallow in billions
The beautiful ones’ share of welfarism
The ugly ones in their smartness
Transfer via internet to foreign treasury
Leaving the beautiful ones in penury
What will happen?
When birds of a feather jail themselves
The more protracted the investigation,
The more the chances of exoneration.
The beautiful ones live in expectations
But the ticket to make change
Is as expensive as rainbow’s excrete
‘How do we get there?’
Is the question of the beautiful ones
Who will now pull the poor to the poll?
If the beautiful ones are barred from the poll
It is a sign to the beautiful ones
That in the camaraderie of the ugly ones
They get the ticket in gyration
Just to deceive the beautiful ones.
The beautiful ones are born
Through their action
Which speaks louder than words
And with this, they will be heard and seen.
This guest article was submitted by Anonymous .
I keep quiet when my pen speaks.
