The Institution

The poem describes a young ambitious man who had a dream of conquering the world, but these dreams all came to an end when he got in trouble with the authorities. He explains his innocence.

 

Been dragged down the stream to satisfy those in authority,

Been robbed of my future so I can sit and watch survivors eat off my sweat

Dreams I had are revolving in circles,

Plans I made are left unimplemented,

The system has turned my devotion against me,

I’m seen behind loud walls contradicting myself,

I am in a clueless stained battle trying to save my thoughts in this un-destined flow.

 

I find an organ of mine faced against this institution,

All rights destroyed, my faith reserved.

Temptations are closing in; my faith is now part of an accountant’s ledger,

I’m here questioning the existence of God like a child raised in a sack.

 

I was born to rise but I find myself on these knees begging the system to be keen and kind enough to give an African child a chance to help fight poverty back at home;

Instead policies and procedures are set upon me,

Lawyers and authorities are brought before me

I am forced to desert what I have orchestrated, step aside and watch born frees play trampoline on my future.

 

They have weaseled their way into my spirit,

Stolen all what was left,

And helped those in oath fill up the lifeless void within

 

My strength is lifeless,

Brain brainless,

Even the friendly lizard behind my spine has become a stranger,

I am here asking questions that even Google can’t deliver.

 

My mind was fixed, I found no plan “B” in my cries,

So I thought of letting the devil in so he finds a purpose for this empty canvas.

 

No don’t get me wrong,

I tried thinking out of this clueless box for inspiration,

But ended up putting together the similarities of the train rail to the sacrifice of Christ so I can be buried with what I regard sin and forget earth has ever existed.

 

As this sad monster that I’ve been turned into today, I refuse to end my life this way,

I seek to find reform in this tragedy,

Not give them a shot, act like a convict, and let my thoughts be imprisoned for what I think is right.

 

By: Ts Mashile