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His life echoes in misery in his tin house,
as the arms of the law crackdown on rioters,
who get their money from politicians.
Selling second-hand clothes is his main job,
but the council officers extort money from him,
leaving him dry, frustrated and teary. His face shows
he's seen a lot in his lifetime, with scars from a failed
His neighbors steal his hard earned cash,
when they have a deathly debt on their necks,
or they have lost all their money on a soccer bet.
The problems in his neighborhood repel back to him,
for he is part of the neighborhood,
no matter how innocent he is. The flying toilets,
garbage, broken sewerage, and broken promises by leaders
are all part of anyone living in the slums.
Some years back a stray bullet pierced through his tin house,
hitting his wife's chest; she now rests with angels in heaven.
His children wander in the streets, looking for money;
by the end of the day, they come, their esteem deflated
with abuses, kicks and broken dreams.
He looks up at the blue sky,
and wonders whether one day the rains will finally
come with his blessings....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017