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