Independence Day Poem by Ishmael Onserio

I bow my head in deep thoughts as I call back that Independence Day,
My heart crying earnestly as I face distaste of a weird reincarnation,
The gliding reprisals with no pretext drafting that of great liberation,
Those sparking thoughts of emancipation shrouded with rage's sway,
I'm of the latter days, my being was indeed tutored to believe in this,
Like a juvenile national who absorbs ways of the land from infancy,
I'm innocent, my conscience is ordering me reflect of this occupancy,
That delineates minds far from freedom's common creeds and clicks,
I wonder why the world should be so skewed as two edges of the sky,
Songs of that first fighting now trampled on the ground of show off,
That great Independence Day seen as dissolving clouds in that belief,
Personate faces ratifying expiation yet gazing through reproach's eye.

How do you feel when they get in your way with untraced respite?
The pricking past ignites your ambling thoughts with a fiery touch,
Gloom from the old times trailing over my face like a scared judge,
Bidding me to unveil this infamy and wheel with cirrus like a kite.
Have you seen reproach coaxing you from an undisturbed corner?
Just because of your frail looks and tint, you don't have to stand,
Before bigoted hearts idling in life's mixed oaths, the current trend,
A directional view fit to appease inner thoughts of assumed honor.
I have enjoyed scuffled walks, my inner being bears a comely truth,
I get taunted as I stick my hit face before the Pharisees of the hour,
Glaring acts of insults outrun their ancestors' fights from the tower,
As they sang songs of anticipated freedom in the light of huge faith.

Have you ever thought to be so better than your auxiliary coequal?
Have you ever abused passing strangers as you faked that leading?
Through immaculate roads, yet that barrage came down staining,
You evaded and left your toiling mate drown in the awful sequel,
Have you ever forged rifts in hearts of men in the name of hatred?
Did you clap with joy at your deposed mate on the floor of shame?
How did your heart feel, filled with splendor or led in mere fame?
Minds are so forgetful, the other day streets had saints on a tread,
Sparring for freedom was core, hearts were rueful in that sobriety,
The heart that was pitied has won favor before the big day's eve,
Snapping exposed souls with pride, songs of liberty now in a sieve,
Thus far forgotten, specious hearts flaunting their slaying reality,
My mind loafs in a quizzing sail, emancipation is just a history,
Where we hide inferred woes and retaliate as we cry in our story.