We’re haemorrhaging as a nation
Take a leaf out of the zim-dream
And its texture will be a nightmare
Our hopes ooze down sewer drains
Falling like the zim-dollar
Crumbling into a fist-full of dust
We walk down the street
Clutching our dreams
In a wad of lotto tickets
Counting the hours
Until Saturday comes
Dreams are sweet in the midst of the nightmare
Till it all evaporates with the announcement of the results
Adapted from
Stanley Mupfudza’s poem, ‘Zim life’.
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment