O President My President 

Our fearful trip has begun

The democracy cannot weather these cracks

The prize we sought is diminishing 

The grave is near, the hymns are sung, 

Our people are crying for your leadership

While poverty is wrecking our social fabric

But O anarchy, O anarchy, O anarchy

On the stairs of your high office

Where on the deck my President lies

Falling and focused on political enemies’ beds

O President My President, rise up,

And hear the cries,

Rise up- from you leadership is sought- from under your watch the state is failing

The procession to bury our hopes is marshaled by anarchists,

The mass graves are filling with youth dreams

From you we expecting leadership and direction

From your party we have lowered our expectations 

Our eager to be the best we are is waning 

Hear President, dear leader,

The turmoil beneath your eyes

It is what doomsayers about Africa have predicted

It is the trip we dared not to travel,

On it you are falling and becoming cold

My President does not answer

His might is constrained and diffused

He does not feel the tremors shaking society 

Anarchy, corruption and crime is anchoring itself

Our voyage to a better life is truncated 

O President My President 

Rise up, there is an army of honest persons waiting for orders

Rise up there is a swarm of ideas waiting to sting the state

Rise up there is orchid of solutions waiting to be harvested

Issue orders, issue orders, issue orders

There is a Broad Pool of Ideas waiting

My President can’t be cold and timid

This poem is part of an Anthology: IT RAINS FROM UNKNOWN CLOUDS  by Dr FM Lucky Mathebula