The manager

The Manager
Every rising  sun
Meets me on the farm
Not mine
Nor my father's
But someone else's

Every setting sun
Leaves me in a big compound
Where I toil not my field
Nor my parents
But that which 
Is for a stranger

Thou I'm a man of age
I couldn't help but manage
I couldn't man age
Instead age man me
Bossing me to obey it's command

I am a famous man
For poverty dwells with me
Pain is my anchor
And bitterness my best friend

I am dressed in a robe of penury
The crown of poverty adorns me
On my hands are bangles of hopelessness
Complimenting my beautiful outfit of doom

I have no one to look up to
But the supreme up above
No where to turn to
Even a house, I didn't own

I eat the delicacies of sorrow
Drank the wine of anguish,
In a mansion of wretchedness
I am king

I manage all I have
I mean all of nothing
I am a manager
Who manage his life,
A stupendous manger

® Sam Petros

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