The Rise of the Broken

The Rise Of The Broken Oh, yes I am a refugee They say I grew in the sea But my late grandpa taught me how to swim on dry land and sand Never let the gratitude of the waters dread your passion Dive deep into your thought and champion your determination My late grandpa was shot and stabbed in the back He barked loud, that memory doesn’t make my dreams shot My blood is still hot to melt the colder and my heart still pump ideas My ideas drive me fast like gears My great grandpa had two wives War and division But here I wear peace and solutions He said Wende Ukaweke Salama Live in Dzaleka kama kwa mama This is not a drama, it’s the rise of the broken Don’t let the chains on your legs limit your movement You are free just like your uncle Mandela Never let the fears of being detained in prison kill your dreams and ambitions Let them build your esteem to flow like a stream of honey I know you like it But how do you appreciate the bees bite How do you feel after failing a life quiz How do you feel being squeezed like lemon How does it feel being ignored like a demon I know it doesn’t sound right but this is quiet right I know we are kind of free but trapped in a quadrat. I thought because they said I was I goat I would never grow wings Just because I was a slave I would never be king Just because I was servant I would never be queen That’s not true You can be anything so long as you work for it. I thought I would be somebody But now I am myself Just because you are broken it doesn’t mean your hopes are broken Your future is bright and not broken Your power is just within yourself and not taken So rise, like the rising sun Peace to the warm heart of Africa “Malawi” By little John Kazadi