This is a poem that I had written a mwaka zamani (it's ilitumwa as 'Bio' on Fanpop) When the world is silent and the tears float in midair, what crisis has befallen us? I lie awake thinking. Where is the better tomorrow? Why do we always find it at an instant too late? How is it that the earth can misjudge it's caretaker's so carelessly? Due to days like this, I can see now why Pandora shut the box. It's a macabre assault we have just trying to live through one day. Every saa is as excruciating as the second. All of the dances, composed kwa life and death, are filled with taunting, torturous reminders of what is yet to come. We can't all catch a lucky break, we can only grin and kubeba it. There is a black wingu which covers the already shrouded eyes of our madness. Will I be able to see that tomorrow when all hope is gone and no one will hold out a hand for me?
