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
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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