A CRY FROM AFAR: THE PAINS OF THE PEOPLE. [Poem] For soo many sleepless nights we have achieved nothing, for soo many fanciful days we are still where we are, indeed nothing new have being added to the fortunes of our people yet we sit in the dark cubicles and view the plights crippling our people in our opaque spectacles and without shame we pound our chest in pride for nothing worth edifying. But for today, our people are becoming wiser, our slave are staring at us with their eyes wild opened, their mouths watered with venom and their heart's haboring for us an unending bitterness and anger for our deceitefulness. We have made our people what they are today. We have made them stooges of disproportionate watermarks yet how have we felt in our shoes their cries and woes. As i speak, their hearts are up on their necks waiting without patience, holding on firmly to their "little weapons" and without fear of coercion to put the injustices we meted out to them to it best place in the society.