Poetry from Victor Obukata

BALM THAT BURNS

We for our today,
Uncertain of the future.
We wail, victims of smiles of friendship,
And answer carrying saviours from beyond.
These agents of change.

We become preys to the mighty,
Habouring friendly enemies,
And a spirit of gullible reception lives in us.

They put off the chameleon camouflage,
And wears the democratic Adolf Hitler;
When our lives are not determined by them.

They eat fine foods while we scatter dungs.
Their tongues are soothing to their tummies, 
To our bodies they actually burn harder than petrol fire.