poetry

KETTLE BLACK

.

I’ve heard the cry for good government
And I’ve seen same eyes that sore sell their right to change for a penny or less
politicians buy our votes for rice and salt in minute rations
with this “price tag”on the head of the “black man”
They call it “free” and “fair” elections
I call it rig and read elections
With open eyes we cast our votes into the wrong ballot boxes as long as the coloured paper is to be counted in our purses
Why do you call the Kettle black


I’ve felt our hunger for morality
Yet we starve her and instead feed muscles to corruption
Helping it build a country over our country
We are the architect of our own demise
The top seem to be a far reach
Not because those up there decided to build a house n live in it
But because we take same designs to structure our streets n self interest
The country ain’t corrupt
The country people is what’s corrupt
Stop calling the kettle black

.

A brother can’t help a stranger cos the stranger isn’t a Brother
We’ve become so tribal, we made a tribe out of tribalism
We worship the man with the white skin
And yet burn the people with whom we share same skin tone
Same nation but the hate arises when it’s not the same mother tongue
Not the same ethnicity, not same religion
We are one People with different colors at heart
We only give love when it’s beneficiary
How do we want peace when all we share is war
I’ve seen your desire for unity, but it’s culture that cuts us short
Can we stop calling the Kettle black

.

We snooze on all this, then try to raise alarm
Like who are we try to wake?
God?
Stop calling the kettle black
Stop calling the kettle black if you still bring fire to the heat
Stop calling the kettle black if your heart is as black as it is
Stop calling the kettle black if the back of your hands ain’t as white as your palms
Stop calling the kettle black if you help paddle us backwards

………to be continued!


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