By Dikizo the Poet
We hear their wicked laughter at the mere thought of youth organizing,
“Another kid from the block running for office?” – An uprising?
“Oh please, with what cash? Wet dreams vanish like ghosts in the night”
They know we’re a generation that dares dream of freedom by light
So, they wade through their filthy murk emboldened by hoarded cash,
Rehearsing stale songs of golden promise lands and future’s lush,
“5 more trillion and Kenya transitions into new Malaysia or Singapore,”
All the while the poor grapple with high costs of living and empty stores
They quickly forget how we crowd-funded bills through tin-cup parades,
How their government almost crumbled to the youth’s twitter tirades,
They forget we tasted people power, and billionaires hid in fear,
How humble hustles merged to console those who had lost their dears
Without loans from feudal lords or takings from corrupt trades – we dare,
Youth crave the alternative – eradication of a culture of handouts and flair,
We choose to be the broke but bold – funded by belief, heart and sweat,
We’re a generation that leverages on technology, human resource, and debate
