An Ode to the things that matter
how it could be,
flying off to the wonderland,
in search of eternal comfort and glee.
Packed our bags we did,
saying “RAD it’s gonna be!”
Expertise, the pinnacle of our prudence.
all bagged and ready for sail.
As for a week early our calling letters were in the mail.
“Salvation from this land of no-promise, we’d be free!”
“All aboard”, on the boat then,
setting sail, for our so called calling,
for the land of so called promise,
“Let the people on the shore do the falling”
Checked our docs and determined like ox,
unknowing of our own imbecilic facade,
unknowing of the prevalent diaspora,
oppurtunity being the religious frock.
Days of vigour,weeks of rigour
dwelling in our self-righteousness
spine subject to labour’s rancour,
crippling subjugating and withering of course
peace of mind gone sore
shook to our very core
Was it worth it?
is it worth it?
lugubrious our demeanors become,
whats left in it?
whats left of it?
recalcitrant to our inner happiness our lives become,
We recalculate our steps,
steadily and thoroughly,
wondering wether to return.
To our initial state of bliss,
back in our homeland, yes admittedly,
we bid adieu to our sojourn.
Upon docking we find,
progress so ameliorating, we go blind.
Gazing and wondering, we curse our oversightedness,
stocks on the rise.
The fires of heavy industry and related contingencies were no surprise.
Friends,family,culture, all the old ones(& new) oh yes!
We scamper around to turn vocation to stint to occupation,
thanking all the smiling faces,our lucky break and the economic boom on the whole.
Content to have returned to our nation,
strangely we still feel like an odd lot, a-la- cultureshock,
Its been the same throughout, this time however a new mechanical mole, has got our goat.
Maybe we are still fresh off the boat.
What the hell just happend!
