Will you bury us all
And preside over our funerals?
Can you embrace the jiggered fingers,
Where poverty still lingers?
Now that you’ve crossed the divide,
You feel you have arrived.
The drunkard you see,
Is just a poor and troubled me.
How will you be a servant,
With your conceited false bravado?
Are these your saviour’s teachings,
To which you subscribe?
How will you lead,
When you can’t practice what you preach?
Will you lead a people so dirty in your eyes
Before you remove those rose coloured glasses?
Lioness © 16 Jan 06
A response to Bishop Wanjiru’s (Starehe seat aspirant) comments on J.K. Ndimu.
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2 comments:
Well written I must say! I was thinking the very same thing!
great poem chic..
i totally agree though from a humanistic point of view...i stand by the bishop.her comments were calloused,anatagonistic and expressed in wanton..
other than that , i like ur stuff.
ps:she should write that poem:)
(jazzkuria.blogspot.com)
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