Cursed Street
I hit Bishop Wills' street,
A reflection of Mbarara's sadness,
UMEME goons are in deep slumber,
No street lights to illuminate the night,
Electric poles lie in the road
and block pedestrians' paths,
Live wires sag slightly above our thick heads,
Street-kids throng the rubbish pits
And leave with a cordial thanksgiving,
They compete with karooli, and the vultures
For crumbs of rotten meat,
Culverts, bridges and sewage gutters are their only homes,
albeit the filth therein.
On this cursed street
Thick nimbus clouds from tobacco
Hover above the street
And form acid rain,
God, the gods and the goddesses can all testify,
This is a cursed street!
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
