Silver Star - 3,436 Points (3rd May)

Agent Of Change. - Poem by OBIGOD CHIDI CECE

Raised in the white side of the black world;
The truth was given young, light shown early
To the domestic who adapts in the jungle.
Fencing with the old legacy of anomaly
That stabbed my virtue, my fate irked.
Even quarantined patriots are infected
With that rise of unwise vices well embraced.
It cast on me the apron of victimized reformer.

But can a kid avenge his father's killer
Nor fight the demons that birthed his ancestor?
Tell me how to bite the hand that fed me
And win the battles that eat my predecessor?
Political Medussas with their statues of gold
Has enough collections like tombs of Eqypt.
You that murmur loud of belling the dark cat
Forget that you can be the late on their plate.
Yet I remain a fatal forked bone on their gullet.

My pen is my sword, my speeches the grenades
To win the war I fought once and lost twice
Yet fights more than twice to win once;
Stepping on toes that vomit venom and duels.
Wave the banner of revival, they sing along
But why lead contrary as slaves of gluttony?
Give the majority the vote but never the victory.
But if I can't make it, I'll retire at my post
And breed Warriors to embalm my legacy.


Topic(s) of this poem: change

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Poem Submitted: Monday, June 26, 2017

Poem Edited: Friday, December 21, 2018

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