SILVER SPOON

Many are, that were born with gold spoons in mouth

And some in old nest

And when they cried gold fell

That their voices were clouded,

and not even heard

we, we were not that favoured

so we, when we cried

 they shoved big rusty spoons in our hands

we were warned to hold them glued

for with time, they will grow into gold

or the nearest to it-silver

to feel we rocked shoulders

for blood will drain both, when cut;

this was to give credibility for their doing

but when cut, we knew one thing they knew we knew

blood will surely drain one to the graves

we were stretched to believe

we all have rights, and a reason to be happy,

amidst all odds

schooled to think, and feel, we are all equal

but whom should we rain blame on?

For we all never chose this life

We were just placed here

We grew, but when we grew,

our rusty spoons never changed to silver or gold

so we polished it with gold dust

to keep our pride without blemish

but they were only telling us

we shall take pride in the trade

in which we have been born.

---Fampah Coyish---