What We Bargained For: A Poetic Cry of Hope and Disillusionment
At the shed where we hide, we dance and sing with fresh hope. We trust that our chosen leaders will steer us away from darkness and keep our gold from rusting. We envisioned a new dawn as we placed our futures in their hands. Our joy swelled like the drums that echoed through our homes and hearts. But we soon stood amid ruins, smiling through our tears. Our leaders, draped in expensive agbadas, feasted on the national cake while we lived on crumbs. This was not what we bargained for. Is this democracy or something else?
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