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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 ONLY TOMORROW....

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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