What Relief

Stopped taking strange medication, changed my diet
and blood sugar remained stable all through class, I
was awake and aware without emotion and fear and
best of all the angels and fairies came back, just as I
warmed to her our teacher is going away, a new guy
taking her place

But what relief, what hope, how can I explain the depth
of my despair and the height of my joy, back to normal
sort of, it still takes chemicals but who cares, as long
as I finish my translation, which I did; still crying about
Africa’s self-imposed hardships, trying in vain to explain
their cause to others

I have the assurance of the diplomatic world they never
stoop to taking notice of the man in the street - never
consider francophone Africa’s real need: to understand
what is going on Gadaffi claims the Transitional Council
is a maskerade - the powers-that-be considers nobody,
I am the only one lamenting as they bleed

Seems like nobody cares – and why should they,
indeed?