They say when born to wealthy men,
Born with a silver spoon!
Mine is as much as born,
With a hard wooden spoon!
Moreover into the sea of poverty drown,
And to save me no one!
My mother a painting of pain,
Everyday a groan of trouble.
My father an illusion unknown,
From my first day dawn.
My relatives fake oblivion,
Looking down at us with disdain,
Munene my brother, with fate crown.
Of lack of literacy the moan,
Makena my sister, of luck none,
Born to persevere the nanny pain.
Mine last sister Wanjira, our only hope,
Wed and lost to a bare dusty plain.
Much are the times I hold my chin,
Sifting through dreadful thoughts within.
Mingling into my mind in endeavors vain,
Flipping through my life worries carven.
May fate to me have a good turn,
And to my worries solution dawn!
© GIDRAF MWANGI