Requests We Want To Send To The Moon Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

We want a new leader down here
For the one we have has done it again,
He has built himself a hacienda
With every cent of the poor
That he was supposed to lead.

Tell the moon this place remains,
In the hands of the lawless,
For they are not givers of love,
For all they do is walk on golden pathways,
And drive around in gilded carriages.

We want the moon to look down,
And see the earth down here,
Turning saddled with a people,
Whose leader has no understanding,
Of what the morning light brings,
To the people he leads.


This person called to be an angel,
With no virtues from heaven,
Or values from the pools of wisdom
Has never dipped in them his finger,
To taste the stuff he must dish out.


He who drinks like a fish has a chance,
Only if he will empty the contents of the can,
And run to the healer next door,
And ask for a herb that will make him,
Want the drink no more.

This ruler who is lawless here,
Sits in the center at the well,
Drinks and passes it on to another,
Till day break while his people starve.

Now he is supposed to speak for the voiceless,
How will he when his voice is hoarse,
From the parties that shut up his brain,
Draining this abscess that remains
That was once a brain now full of pulp,
For the drink has powdered the contents.

Tell the moon to come down and rule,
For earth is just another place,
Where people suffer and look up,
And have hope when the moon rises,
Thinking it is coming to their aid.

They once lived with hope,
And saw the sunset come,
And waited in the darkness,
And now they speak to the moon,
For it was faithful and always came back,
With a promise to hear them monthly.