Sunday, July 21, 2024
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Sunday, July 21, 2024

Child.

The sun rose and set,

All our hopes in you we invested.

Season after season,

we tilled and cultivated the land

Cultivating ancestral land that belongs to us no more,

Leased and gradually sold off,

All bequeathed in place of that education.

The sun rose and set,

All our hopes in you we invested.

Season after season, we tilled and cultivated the land

Cultivating ancestral land that belongs to us no more,

Leased and gradually sold off,

All bequeathed in place of that education.

Child, now we ask,

where we so wrong in believing in the university Degree?

Together with you we have graduated, but

to the degree of terminal poverty to which we now resign.

Should you ditch the graduation gown child?

And don a thicker skin, glaring at the Degree with scorn?

Child, now we ask,

where we so wrong in believing in the university Degree?

Together with you we have graduated, but

to the degree of terminal poverty to which we now resign.

Should you ditch the graduation gown child?

And don a thicker skin,

glaring at the Degree with scorn?

A new day we hope shall be born,

Born to unravel the oracular hallucinations

To oust the turbulent reign of poverty

And morph into our wretched hopes.

For the enemy within the Degree has become.

Child.

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