Should the moon peep
Or the Sun creak
The clouds are always
At our feet
Should the sky sneeze
Or the wind dance
Our paths leave a line
Of a non stop continuity
If time were a ferry
Then we would row back
Tracing our identity and
Claiming our names would be the aim.
Times without numbers nor alphabets
I ponder what the fore elders thought..
They gave me this shoe for an aim so beautiful yet destructive now to our age
I mark my fingers on every door
My markings are all on your streets
Search not for me you'd see me
I call each day, but now it's all but a mere voice already used to
We've seen camp fire nights
Shivering in cold with our dusty rusty garments
We've tasted the greatest continental meals all made from maize with a delicious drink of untreated water
We've been surrounded by so great importance
We lay with trumpets as lullabies
They bit in.. these tiny Lil sucklings taking the Lil blood we have left flowing in our veins
Runaway not Great and high officials
Runaway not Great stars of the earth and the sky
We are humans, I'm human
Only human with a route forgotten
Yes you can help those....
Giving donations to all the homes
But how about us
How about our bowls
Men of bold wealth
Women of goodness
All in with love
Dignity is all we ask
Restore our name!
We have names
Yes we want to be educated
But not in the cloaks as a nuisance to our society
With consistent begging
We are not beggers
We are not the.. Jiris"you name and give us...
But your children
Forgotten in the arms of suffering
You see us all the time
You've made us men with bowls
All around your streets and homes, clinging unto your bag, running behind you with a song like flies
We are yours, Great leaders
Men with Great Future
Not
Men with bowls.
Men with bowls
Written by Ogri Mathilda Sarah
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