Thank you, farmers, for everything you do!
In thousands, they spread, braving the sun,
They had been there since the early morn
Having got their work all done.
The ground trembled with all the footsteps
Even as the microphones roared,
The smiling politicians and their reps
Listened to their leader, so adored.
Suddenly a buzz, a clamour arose;
Eyes turned, the spectacle to behold,
Lo! A turbaned man from the crowd rose
Climbed up a tree, in a move so bold.
A farmer in despair, with no hope ahead
Had come to make a point at the political rally,
A suicide note which was later read
Told the heartrending story of this father of three.
His father had thrown him out of his house
As unseasonal rain had damaged his crops
What did he have left, this nation to rouse
Except the sight of his hanging corpse?
And so even as he beat his breast, tried to plead,
Vowing to kill himself, a desperate man,
The leader continued to speak, paying no heed
As the crowd gaped, disbelieving of the man's plan.
Tied the other end to the branch of the tree
Then he jumped down, as he played his role
Of despairing victim, as his soul flew free.
The leader paused not, his speech still ran,
The crowd muttered, a martyr had died, after all
Some men climbed the tree to save the man,
But alas, too late, he was beyond their call.
Major parties saw this as a wonderful chance
To gain publicity and shift the blame
Over the corpse would they gladly dance
Everything could be turned into a political game!
"Men many come, and men may go"
Martyrs will rise, fall over the firing line.
When will we ever end this farcical show?
When will our nation ever rise and shine?
WILL OUR NATION EVER RISE AND SHINE?