Ode to Nine-to-Fives

This is for Nine-to-Fives, 

Who earned all on golden platters:

Your heirs groan for freedom –

The false seed of peace you planted, 

Has grown hard, tongue tying fruits.

Have you pairs of parenting ears —

To listen to the cries of boiling youthful tongues?

Will you, for once, be mothers and not murderers,

Fathers and not farther to subside our rising wails?

Make us a matured home, not unripe graves;

Our noses want to smell something delightful,

Our mouths want to taste things delectable,

Our eyes are in search of hopeful sights,

Our hands are flailing in the air, looking for your warmth.

Remember:

Above and beyond you,

He stands to deal you 10th as hard, 

The horrors you (may) nail —

On the naked heads of infant hopes.

#EndSARSNow #Endpolicebrutality 

— ‘Kore Akarakiri