I'm Not Your Friend, My Friend Poem by Mpho Leteng

I'm not your friend, my friend.
I see the greasy grip of your hand,
Stained with the blood of the streets,
Cracked palms from signing deceit.

I'm not your ally, chief.
Your promises rot beneath
A mountain of broken bricks
Dreams crushed with bureaucratic tricks.

You speak of unity, justice, peace
Yet your lies dance with ease.
You steal futures for your feast,
A fat king, while hope's deceased.

I'm not your comrade, boss.
You line your pockets; we bear the loss.
Public coffers emptied bare,
Yet you jet off without a care.

You sip champagne, while we drink drought
Your wealth swells, while we go without.
Factories closed, schools shut tight,
But you sold out with a grin that bites.

I'm not fooled by your empty creed.
The masses march; the people bleed.
But the seeds of rage, they crack the ground
Revolution won't be silenced or drowned.

So hear me, tyrant, understand:
Your time's up, feel the pressure of hands.
No power lasts when truth ignites
And soon, you'll face these furious nights.

I'm not your friend, my friend.
I'm the storm your greed won't end.