I am not the one who wielded a double edged sword upon peace

Nor the one who fielded a deep-lined rogue army against democracy

When the trigger was once pulled against the blind and the deaf in broad daylight

I was not party to such miscreant behaviour

When the people were attacked by wild cats with double incisors

I had since retired to my rural home to write

My scribbling’s have had nothing to do with this fiddling with peace

The conference that decided the fate of the poor was convened in my house yet in my absence

 

They brought with them some long sharp knives sheathed in slogans

Sorry looking tools that were never of my own making

Neither were the poison laced portions of food they fed to the masses from my own kitchen

None of that was cooked at my house

I also have nothing to do with this poem

I was not present as it was written

Nothing about it has anything to do with my own reasoning

I am not even sure who is to blame for all the bad things we don't know anything about

I can't think of anyone who is not to blame for one thing or the other