Venom On Fresh Wounds
Caged in a lions den
Weak upon kisses of dynasties of snakes
Screaming like a helpless hen
Pleading for mercy at a knife point
Lamentations of chicks echoing but unheard.
Locked behind bars of trauma
I watch innocent chicks devastated
As mambas that once were unicorns stage drama
Spitting more venom on their paralysed legs
Eating their growers mash left in stock.
Electrocuted in sand laid by nature
Another snake practicing biting target
On my right foot, oh I curse this creature!
For pouring a new liter of misery
Henceforth stealing my walking ability.
Appeased in my mind seeing scabs
Covering dozens of lacerations
On that special day a warrior of six abs
Wipes all snakes out of existence
These are dreams I swallow and drug me like morsels.
Trapped inside the battle
Wrestling boiling venom in my blood
Nonetheless they smile with a short-lived zeal so subtle
Hiding branded snake flags in their outfits
Indeed snakes in snails clothing exist.
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 05/26/2021
Poet's note: Growing up under a political arena where politicians present themselves as unicorns and white horses during campaign period. Symon Maguru reflects on that experience in a poem "VENOM ON FRESH WOUNDS" which talk about how politicians add more problems on existing ones. The title takes an imagination of an angry snake spitting venom on someone who is already injured, on a connotative point of view it symbolises politicians who come to people in a white horse clothing while they are snakes.
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