Letter of Liberation To Kenya
Change makes time brush us,
so we're bruised and guarded
like a thorn melon in a basket.
Blood has coagulated into
something dark and hard.
Do you feel like scratching?
Don't, lest you spill a gallon of puss,
a dark scar still represents a malady
that entomb the hurts of men
Yet we must burn our noses
in putrid own flesh and find
no room to spit nor scowl
We, brothers of Kenya
let's create timeless change
in a beautiful scar of immunization
By remaining shy,
we breed vanity and less hope.
Then false liberation will come
hard on us like a monkey wedding
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