The Servant God

His smile is so enticing.
It yanks them out of an abyss,
His promises,
Are the music that wake them up in the morning.

They trust him with their lives.
Their entire families are in his hands.
The innocent little children’s fate,
The fate of the old and weak,
It’s all in his promising hands.

They put him in office.
On an early morn they queue and vote for him.
With a smile they vote for better roads,
They hope he will fulfill their dreams,
They vote for better education.

The servant of the people becomes a God.
He boards his chariot and rides away.
His people watch him leave with sunken eyes.
Disillusionment gets in the way.
Their hope was just another Judas marred with lies.

They no longer want a fancy road,
Even a fancy school is no longer a priority.
Just make sure the old people’s money reaches them.
Ensure there is food for the children.
Protect the business people from robbers.

But that is too much to ask.
They are bothering ‘God’,
Prodding him as he lies in his bed of roses,
Nagging and inconveniencing him,
While he is busy farting in his satisfied sleep.

Drowning in poverty, drenched in fatigue,
Dying of hunger and dressed in tatters,
They see him approach from a far.
He remembers them now, five years later.
He flashes them his smiles and kisses them with promises.
The ‘God’ has once again become a servant.

This poem is about: 
My country


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