The Weeping Nation

Our pilots are here again.
They have come crossing the bar.
This time we can’t even talk again.
Our political rights now put us behind the bar.

Hey! My people what’s our of fence?
In our own land we live under enslavement.
Treated like a criminal caught over the fence.
Oh, why this traumatic imprisonment?

By constitution we are democratic.
Our views and interest ought to be the watchword.
Why then do our pilots seem autocratic?
I’m afraid the future appears dark like a blackboard.

In our constitution is enshrined our rights.
The code of conduct we all know.
Punish us when we go beyond the rights.
But the cause of punishment for a speech, we don’t know.

In the constitution, we have freedom of speech.
Criticism and freedom of the press meant to curtail excesses.
Now I ask my pilots, which section defines hate speech?
Why this deliberate urge to embrace crises?

I’m afraid this land shocks like electricity.
Service to humanity rapidly loosing it’s place.
Our leaders are very comfortable in the face of atrocity.
The agony remains, we have nowhere else to call our place.

Why not share?

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