The Commissar Poem by Wilson Tinotenda Waison

Dear commissar
My poetry is filled with agitation and grievances.
To have stood amid, betwixt disillusionment and
Displeasure before. This plea seek not immunity
Nor to pile vanity vines rather seeks progression.

Dear commissar
My poetry is the echo of distress within masses
Not to dance along to political slogans so rinsed
With which inflicts sorrows and grief rather this
Plea seeks to foster love, parity, unity, and liberty

Dear commissar
My poetry is a bayonet to pierce the relaxed son,
Sisters and brothers whom longs for petty silver
Handful coins to swell pockets at my displeasure
This plea seeks to ruin incubators of corruption

Dear commissar
My poetry is the a barrel to storm out avarice in
Series of rounds. Surely a reign of terror in cast
To stamp all political mongers whom likely fatten
Alike the baobab as masses thins, a biltong strip.

Dear commissar
My poetry the bridge betwixt the government and
The masses, not it be an absolute or a totalitarian
State, This plea rather seeks a government of the
People by the people if not democratic sentiment.

Dear commissar
My poetry is the drum beat of Chinyambire, Dinhe
Mbakumba, Jerusalem, Jikinya, Hoso, Muchongoyo
Mhande, Majukwa and Chokoto. The plea points to
Diversity no discrimination based on tribal ethnicity.

Dear commissar
My poetry is the fountain to quench on these thirst
Politically bored, turn an ulcerative colitis to masses
And all fails to burst a gut, in pain, inflammations....
Then this plea seeks not temporarily crafted upshot.

Dear commissar
My poetry is a vessel that amplifies the masses felt
Emotions, If not crafted form the ancient ashes of
Chaminuka, Chinamora, Nehanda and Kaguvi then
It be of whom? The plea seeks revolutionary ardour.