Writing with a Bleeding Pen

Today the PUNCHLINE goes poetic! 

An armed struggle , A rumble in a nearby jungle / Western countries invest in their own prosperity, 

Villagers grief because their voice will forever be a minority.  

A nation of intellectuals, becoming less instrumental / In uprooting the poverty, that transcends our diversity / An oppressed voice, couldn’t create that much noise / So why aren’t they allowed to speak? 

A youthful generation, facing educational disintegration / Becoming degree holders, still frustration molders / Laminated certificates, reality nominated illiterates / Walking in circles, looking for miracles. 

Hungry minors, beckoning Ten Naira donors / Cleaning car windows, under the eyes of their mother widows / Speaking broken English, token gibberish / Their cries interpreted as lies / Cries becoming crimes, when their innocence dies. 

Self inflicted incarceration killing social interaction / Homes built into penitentiaries, in a neighborhood of contemporaries / Preaching their differences rather than embracing possibilities. 

Articulate noisemakers, looking for situations / Complicating simple cases, that need no mathematical equations / Choosing to place their audience in a maze / Telling them it’s a phase / Embracing confusion rather than solution /  ...Their ignorance been tagged as evolution. 

Certificate delegates...Education’s literate / Identity deifiers, evolving knowledge seekers / Embracing a heritage, that never needed a stage / Learning of their culture, likening it to torture / Soon to realize, the real from the lies...  

Young female teens, future Nigerian Queens / Choosing to dabble with the society rabble / Selling their virginity, feeling they love like Neo’s Trinity / Calling advice bigotry, Only to be scorned in Eternity? 

young blood... 

Listen and try reason / Responsibility will read you the rules of this reality / When the soul notes down the words it speaks / It mixes emotion with content / It brews passion with intellect / This is how I read the words of others, and how I hope you read mine. 

I pray that your Fears, wont one day become your Tears.