In those desperate days
when fires consumed brotherhood
In those days when words stung
and passions were not of love or romance
In those days when fear seared
the hearts of men and children alike
When the smell of blood
hung in our throats like yesterday’s bilious food
When we ceased to feel the chill of the night
or the hot rays of the afternoon sun
In those dark and frightening days
When silence was golden, I spoke to all and sundry
I spoke to those who didn’t care to listen
those who were brainwashed or just plain beaten
I spoke of the lies we had been fed
and how we were being led to destroy the country we built
I spoke of the promises never met; schools,
hospitals, and roads yet to be built
I spoke of Njoroge, Kiprono and Otieno,
who lived happily together in Korogocho
I spoke of dairy and fish farming,
of the once fresh vegetables left to rot
I spoke of the shops that were burning
Where would Anyango go to work tomorrow?
I spoke of the innocent children
Who would look after them if we killed our neighbour?
I spoke of the future
Would we forever hide the blood that stained our hands?
I spoke of calm and peace
Who would still these fires that lit the night?
I spoke of peace, love and hope
PoP © 15 Jan 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment