Give me a pen and I shall write.
About my country’s poverty and the poor man’s plight.
The politician who always promises to make things right.
The farmer who cant feed his family due to manufactured blight…

Give me a pen and then.
I shall tell you about Chemuren.
Got married when she was barely ten.
Just so her father could afford to build a pen.
Big enough to hold his family plus the lone goat and hen….

Give me a pen and I shall make you my reader.
Tell you tales of pain and over ambitious leaders.
Men talking of women as if they are just bleeders.
Politicians who talk listen but none are heeders…

Give me a pen and I shall draw your attention.
To the stuff the priest did that we dare not mention.
The way the pastor spoke of Christ and his strife.
And used the promise of healing to impregnate my wife!…

Give me a pen and I shall bleed.
Of the joblessness as she says she is carrying my seed.
Barely able to meet my own need.
Now thinking of an extra mouth to feed…

Give me a pen and let me write my past.
For I have seen and done things vast.
Made marks in society but none seems to last.
Competing in the human race yet constantly coming in last!…

Give me a pen and let me shape my dream.
Of bank accounts plenty and cups full to the brim.
Enough for me and she and maybe him.
Still enough left to uplift any other without a whim…

Give me a pen…

© jemedari