What they say

They say we’re not fit to lead
They say we’re too young
They say we’re sons of nobody
They say royalty is not in our genes
They say 8-4-4 churned out literary dwarfs

They say we are lost
That we refused to see the trail they left us
Did we really see their path worth treading?
All I saw was a bone yard of justice
that corruption and greed got slain
long before my placenta tasted earth

They say our efforts yield nothing
Ours has been termed a lost generation
They say we’re a menace to society
They say our grey matter is dark with addictions

They say we’ll lead tomorrow
When our goals will be more defined
When they shall have paved our way
When our sisters shall have completed
The bedroom courses they sponsor

When our brothers shall have nursed
The gunshot wounds they shot
When our mothers shall have read the last eulogy of our siblings
When our fathers shall have returned to empty homes
with empty hands because they can feed us on empty promises
When the false incitement charges shall have eaten away our cattle shed
When the sheep shall have been driven out of church

But I ask you, what do we say?
What are we?

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