11/2014
As I walk down this dusty path
I feel like I'm walking down the isle of death
Wilting sunflowers beside the trail look like wreaths
Laid on my gray casket
My head, a basket of worries
I've got this thought that I'm standing on a cliff's edge,
Having pictures of troubles in the inner city
Fake democracy and manifestos that lack authenticity
Suffering has exceeded the maximum capacity
If I jump off this cliff, it will be the end
The end of my dark days
The end of bloodstained escapades

But then, at the back of my crazy mind
A calm voice starts talking to me:
"See, your friend needs a helping hand,
Your empress needs your love and company,
Your mama really needs your victory,
Your existence, your future generation
The society needs you to build its sentiments..
..to teach and nourish the young and the vice."
That's when I turn around and look at the setting sun
In new hope and faith
With confidence and strong will to live my legacy
No matter how torn the personality is..
..the world still needs it
Somewhere, Somehow
Matolo Kyalo Jr (Kenya)
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