I live…
My life through time
Am not happy
With the path…
That I have chosen

This white paper
Has ruined my life
I signed yes I did signed
Because I needed the money
And they needed my talent

I have traded my talent
For my suffering
A laissez-faire
Now they brag about my name
Live me with my suffering

I cry for my freedom
You and them can kiss my bosom
I live for the pride of the world
To talk is their money
If I sit back is a loss on my side

You and them can kiss my bosom
I am a city linker
Durban, Nairobi, Kampala or Gotham
You name it a contract I survive on
My life, my profession is controlled by the vail of a contract

I have been to many hotels
Sun City in Gauteng province is my favourite
Aromatic cappuccino of Hilton Nairobi hotel my favourite too
Luwombo chicken in sheraton where I reside
While my family rot in giza giza slums near mbuya barracks, Kampala-Uganda.

I change cars like shirts
Yes I do that because I am a public face
You and them can kiss my bosom
Cardiac, Mercedes, rang rover I drive
I talk they earn, they earn I work, and that’s the way it is
A con.. Yes a contract

You and them work to see me in drain
Yet you and them thinks I earn millions
No I actually earn penny
But my talent is what they survive on
I survive on and now you too survive on
Writing lies and faults reports to see me down

Surprise your reports pushes me up
My cause is greater than my personality
If i accept its a story,
If i reject is another story
The world is safe on lies, deny it I live for the press

You and them can kiss my bosom
I signed a contract to save my weary bosom
You do your job and let me do mine
I signed a contract because I was broke
You report because you lark what to sell to the public.

A contract?
Yes a contract is what I signed.
And I labour through
Living through time
A contract for my ruin.

©Caesar Obong aka czar da poet a 2015 Production


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