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.