I’m tired of criticizin’

I have found fault

where fault exists,

where graft and waste

rot administrative wheels

like puncture holes of gangrene.

I have listened to talking power heads

repeat-repeat their rhetoric

on a scratched CD of promises,

seen the blood and fire of history

scream from the mouths of dying

protesters and communities.

All this I have witnessed.

All this has waned my will to critique.

For what good is it to rage a reality on replay?

To say all is lost, this nation is doomed,

we have gone from rainbows to dark-clouded gloom.

I have let my speech and thoughts be flogged

with whips of negativity for too long

and like an amateur graffiti artist,

I have tagged ‘‘failed state’’ on this land

without spotting the mural of hope

struggling to breathe beneath.