Programmed Poem by Kenneth Maswabi

In the dusty streets
We stand in awe of our achievements
Having paved our way out of poverty
We celebrate our polished shoes, tuxedo
And our shiny mag wheels
We are sons and daughters of the poor dad
In our minds we have made it in life
We are the crème de la crème of society
We have forgotten the hunger pangs
And the fly infested streets of our former life
We care no more
We have reached the summit of success
We have breached the thick wall of poverty
We are unstoppable
But wait a minute…
The poor are still hungry
The vulnerable are full of misery
And the elderly are neglected
Their heart has no peace
As they forage for a piece of life
Living under $2 a day
They curse the day they were born
But wait a minute…
It is not our fault
It is not our problem
But whose problem is it anyway?