11 Days, The Count Down Poem by Simbarashe Raymond Mudukuti

I work as an accountant
We all know how they try to manipulate us
The school leavers
Degreed but nothing to show about it
Begging for jobs like it's a favour
They, not learned, but in charge
Not that that's my story no
I amm here in this shithole
They think wearing the enslaved formal on weekdays means money
They do not know these are my stripes
I'm in jail
No
I'm no different than you
Just that I'm broke and a bit learned
Maybe it's the emotions that I carry
They lead me into seclusion
Solitude becomes my friend
And they ask me why
Why? !
You are sticking holes inside a bucket im trying to mend
A never ending story of greediness
At the end of the day it's choose or lose
Who can help?
I don't need no human help
I need the beings help
A higher supreme mind than my own

By Kp12vT