CORPSE-MAN OF NAIVASHA

Were he to tell his tale
Even Lucifer would shed a tear
He would first, tell of  happy old days
When all faces were innocent and gay
He would tell of brotherly love
Amongst neighbour's kids
As they played "karongo"
He would tell
Of ages old communal maize harvesting,
He would only tell
of border-less brotherhood.

He would then, suddenly
Adorn scary silent  look
Shake his head, staring blankly
His eyes would stagger here and there
Perhaps wary of something
Or perhaps ashamed of himself
He would then tell
Of that dreadful January day
When the mob landed on his shanty
He would tell of the agony
Of trying to persuade invain
His neighbours who then defiled
His ten year old
After they had been done
With what had been left
Of his expectant wife
He would tell
Of the shame of facing the cut
In his family's full glare
He would tell
Of how they hacked him to death
Without the least of care
Later forcing his son to carry
His detached head as a token.

Were he  to tell his tale
He would do it midst spasms of anger
He would tell of a tribal kingpin
Who had promised heaven
Were he to win
But who now belches bacon
From his safe obscene mansion
As the remnants of his dear family starve
In an Indifferent Despotic Politics camp,
He would tell
Of his mother's sons
Who denied his family access
To their ancestral land
He would tell of a nation
Where no one is his brother's keeper
But rather worship their egocentric leader.

He would tell of Mheshimiwa's seat
Worth 200 Grands
While his family was expected to manage
With a mere 25 Grand
He would tell of his tribesmen
Who now talk of justice to  the perpetrators
And empty sympathy to the victims,
Were he to tell his tale
The nation would call him a cry baby
Who is diverting attention
From a cashful political poduim
Were he to tell his tale
He would be reminded
Of innocent till proven guilty clause
For the affluent
And guilty till proven innocent clause
For the masses
Who eternally fight for survival
With bedbugs in remand prisons
Were he to tell his tale
A bill to send him back to hell
Would be quickly drafted
Passed at midnight without amendments
And the bill later invoiced
To the office of suspect-in-chief.

simonpoetically: DOVE I LOVED

simonpoetically: DOVE I LOVED: You would stare at me With blue serene eyes That would instantly melt my soul Many a nights you would embrace me Under your soft...