THE ACTIVIST


I am the activist

The silent gun powder waiting for those that follow to fire

Ignition by other but the spread is all me

The watcher who criticizes more than he proposes

The looker who waits until the piano falls on you

Runs to the camera to explain the issues that led to it

The challenges that brought about your lack of quick reflex

The struggle that was reflected by the impact of it to you brains all over the pavement

The queen of talk of how we did it in our days

The speaker who can’t wait to share on how it should change

Then whispers in the next ear about the death of the movement

The changer who had too much zeal for the cause

But too little love for its folk

The bag of pain that walks around you

Hoping for a listening ear to share on how we are going wrong

How nothing will ever change

How if they didn’t do it then

You cannot do it now

How sad they are about the new trend and faces

But will not hold your hand through it if not come back

How the nation is not ready for us now

Not knowing years ago

Back then

When they wanted to change the world

When they protected those who cannot do it themselves

When they heard the cries of the helpless

Before they were too beaten

Before they thought it was all for nothing

Before they started wanting appreciation back

Before they cared who knew their name

Before they wore their titles on their forehead

They had passion, focus and will

I am the activist

Before I become you

I hope to change a heart

Give me my chance

Years to come we shall share a table

I hope the pain will not have killed me

I hope I shall tell the new ones stories of motivation

Tell them we need not change everything

Remind them to focus on that one mind

That thinks differently because of a word they said

Or a deed they did.

For that may be all we have to show.  

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