As I go...
As I stride past the bridge with a twenty litre jerrican on my hand
I dream of tomorrow where hard soil will be like sand
Where in my dreams we have enough
Where in my dreams soft is never rough
I speed away; not to anger mama
Then when am rich I'll live in Alabama
Ojo, forget the pains, softly says the river
But my thoughts doubt my spirit and my body shivers
As I walk back to our manyatta
I know one day my emaciated bones will grow fatter
Copyright © wanjiru mbogo | Year Posted 2020
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