The Two People in My Motherland

Mr. Peasant
Ever working and always hungry
Sweat flowing across his cheeks
Exhausted he is
Walking like a dog
From a doomed day’s hunt
At home he hopes
For something to entertain his gullets
But all in vain
He sees no smoke over the kitchen roof
As banana wilt has heat
But he says;
“I will work harder”

Mr. corrupt
A corruption curve defines his stomach shape
Ever dozing in office
But posh cars he drives
Swindling and embezzling of donations
Are his hobbies
In his soft settee he sits
As he eats everything he orders
For the table is designed with flowers of food
But he says
“Corruption we shall fight”