The President’s visit

The slum soothed and gagged
To frame its nature;
Trenches and bushes are guarded
And even the chicken
Is not spared the scrutiny.
Our streets shed their skin
And wear new gloss
And fresh tar stick to our feet
To betray a hurried cause.
Our sorrows too are shelved
For a premature smile…
And phew!
The guest has come and gone
With the patience of a flash.
The slum regains its liberty;
Now the chickens may stray,
And our street may even wear to nudity
And the tar is for every feet that cares to carry!
Our sorrows then climb down
Onto the bare  shoulder of reality
And the head sways
Carrying the basket of promises
Licked of its content by time.

[click to view introduction]