Streetlights burn amber
Rainfall relentlessly pelters
No traffic, no pedestrians
The city is dead.
The family clusters together
Conversing on the corridor -
Like ghosts in a nightmare -
A waiting the next dawn.
In the cold,
Children cry of hunger
Rainfall adding to their anger
The world in still slumber.
But we built this city
Built it with hearts desperate and pleading
Built it with arms broken,
Eyes blinded with tears,
Bellies rumbling with hunger,
Dry throats, cracking lips:
But we made it.
We built this famous city
United in a secret sense of mission
An unshakeable belief in the future
Of the delicate unborn lives
In our tired and worn out bones.
That when they will finally come to be
They will know we once lived
And left for them a refuge
A city to call their own.
But does it recognize them any more?
In grave destitution do they live
Victims of segregation, hatred,
Like we once were.
We built an alien city
A place to enslave our children.
John M. Wanjora.
© Copyright 2016 John Wanjora. All rights reserved.
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