Poetic State Of Mind

T.W.I.Y.

1st class honours, yet you sit at home,
Flipping through papers, tweeting on
your phone,
Its a cold world, life is hard,
Trying to find a needle through this
employment haystack is an unenviable
job,

Hoping for the best,
Calling Uncles, Aunties, friends of friends
hoping the best comes out of these meetings
that have no fairy tale end,

Suddenly it hits you, life’s a joke,
You’re searching for an egg that bears no
yolk,
While doctors, teachers, pharmacists go on
strike,
You sit in the comfort of a bar,
drinking to life,

But how much more can you drink?
When you’re on the brink of having pockets
that sink?
Reality hits, you start to think,

Think..think…think,

You’re losing your grip,
But I don’t blame you,
Neither do I blame the alcohol,
I blame system that has young
brilliant individuals wasting
time and talent all for the sake of a bunch
of post retirees still wanting more,

The system is a national pisstake,
NSS is an avenue for a bunch of unethical
blokes to play lottery with a persons career
irrespective of a hard earned certificate,

What a waste!

I sit back and wish life had an reset button,
Though reset to when?
6th March 1957?
When our parents were only young enough
to understand the difference between ABCS and
counting from 1-10?

When pimpiniis and afros were a fashion
statement that you could brag about?
Or when beetles and opel astras were among
some of the whips you drive about?

Started from the bottom,
Got traded and pimped,
3rd world status,
Yep we’re still here,

Unemployment on the rise,
But it is what it is,
What do we care?

Its not like they didn’t call us the future
When our asses are still rearing in the past?
I just weep for the future that lies within
my testes and my future wifes uterus,
since the outcome may never recover from
an expected relapse,

Write a CV they said,
Mr. Belle isn’t impressed,
So while you’re in your suit and tie,
Just know that looks no longer get
you any form of bread,

WYK is the new Y2K,
Who you know today may be the only
way to establish yourself ahead of
a flawless graduate,
Corruption you say?

Well let’s examine the facts,
He’s technically good,
You’re technically handicapped,
Handicapped to your theories,
Where you lose..he gains,
So technically you lack the technical
skills to apply and react,

A chain theory so to speak,
In a parallel universe he’d be declining
hurriedly as you steadily rise to your
peak,

And no you’re not weak,
And this piece is not to stereotype
individuals,
Its just a freedom of speech,

Just an open letter,
Inspired at the time by a lyricist
Who can do no wrong but only
get better,

I write this for my brothers and
sisters who think life is done,
For those who think we need to
direct traffic in order to get a job
in this sacred motherland,

Elevate your minds,
You’re already tailor-made with
potential,
Start a brand, develop a business,
and boss your way up to a high ranking
official,

The world is yours..

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2 thoughts on “T.W.I.Y.

  1. Koo_The_Boy says:

    WOW! Nice piece as usual!
    Hmmm….nowhere cool oo, my broda.

    *Yolks, the eggs I’ve seen usually have yolks not yokes.

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