Poezja

To the kins of my mother
Am just but another 
Wasted if not lost blood
Not a part of their flood
But a drop in the desert
A fallacious bad dessert
Mine is only but a name 
Apparently lacking the norm
The aura and the silk 
Of the people from the land of milk


So I ran to my fathers folks
But on the hearts are locks 
Instead of a feast
Am branded a beast 
Reminded of my milky name
Of my accent so lame 
All this for trying to associate
With the people from Mt Kenya

 
Now I am a tribal orphan 
I feed off hands
Of my adopted parents 
In the morning, we drink coconut juice
Flavored with some salty sea water 
While at lunch time, Osama a chicken
And in the evening, rescue a drowning fish
Only to deep fry it using some E-class kimbo 
Thus am reaping the gains relaxed akimbo
For being truly Kenyan