A
young boy’s song,
A young boy woke up
early,
He hated morning baths,
He hated cold water,
He barely sprinkled it- barely sprinkled it
On his face, stomach and sheens.
He hated the cold water, yet he he asked,
Who am I?
Who am
I?
How Will
I fit in the society?
Will I
ever get true and lasting friends?
Will I
ever outgrow my parent’s shadow?
Will I
ever find true love?
Who
will burry me?
Half asleep,
Barely awake he scurried,
Our lad wore his uniform,
Perfectly smart he was- by the mirror
His pair of shorts inside out.
He had qualms,
He had fears
How Will I fit in the society?
Who am
I?
How Will
I fit in the society?
Will I
ever get true and lasting friends?
Will I
ever outgrow my parent’s shadow?
Will I
ever find true love?
Who
will burry me?
Lunch box in hand,
Sukuma wiki and ugali
Stuffed in a plastic container.
His short pockets bulging,
Pockets weighed down by githeri
Bare feet breaking stones
Our lad went to school.
He was scared, he was lonely
Will I ever get true and lasting friends?
Who am
I?
How Will
I fit in the society?
Will I
ever get true and lasting friends?
Will I
ever outgrow my parent’s shadow?
Will I
ever find true love?
Who
will burry me?
The morning was cold,
His caked feet hurt.
It was misty.
A chilly morning.
He dreamt of a father never had.
Thought of his mother.
Yet he had a question-
Will I ever outgrow
my parent’s shadow?
Who am
I?
How Will
I fit in the society?
Will I
ever get true and lasting friends?
Will I
ever outgrow my parent’s shadow?
Will I
ever find true love?
Who
will burry me?
As all young men do,
Young as he was,
His brain frail and fickle.
He dreamt of her,
He wished that she would smile at
him,
Smile and smile only at him.
Only if, he was old enough,
If he had known that he was in
love, he would have asked,
Will I ever find true love?
Who am
I?
How Will
I fit in the society?
Will I
ever get true and lasting friends?
Will I
ever outgrow my parent’s shadow?
Will I
ever find true love?
Who
will burry me?
Our lad was young,
He had no worries,
He hurt though- they put grannie
under the soil.
He hurt terribly, he missed her.
Bad people placed grannie under
the soil!
If he had known, if he had our
worries,
Only if he hurt like we do.
He would have asked,
Who will bury me?
Who will bury me?
Who am
I?
How Will
I fit in the society?
Will I
ever get true and lasting friends?
Will I
ever outgrow my parent’s shadow?
Will I
ever find true love?
Who
will burry me?
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