HEZRON WANGI JR
An entry in The Crocodile Prize
Kina Securities Award for Poetry
And so the story unfolds,
Sits him amidst the crowd,
Indifferent, vulgar – he screams aloud
No one can hear his anger-ire moulds
In his heart – abhorrence,
wields his soul, the clutches of hate
grips his beating heart in ireful state.
Fools! These fools find bliss in ignorance.
Ignominy, such stupidity portrayed,
by the sons of this Land - this carcass bleeding
yet they gather in feasts while receiving
bane praises on empty credits, independence betrayed
So shall his son, upon his two feet stand,
to sing this Nation’s song of fame -
and swear allegiance to this country’s name,
a prayer he bids to his son’s conscience of his land.
No beast of man may prey upon his soul,
and rob him of his anger, his hate,
for this emotion that makes him whole,
A perfect broth of shame of his country’s spate.