deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hope
Written on return from a Kenyan orphanage
ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
fast beating
my heart with your in
-toxic wasteland, wild dogs
couldn't pull me away.
Carrion crawling a
cross to mark the human
life pronounced.
Shown
in technicolour for the first
time. More rubbish for the heaps
of admirers.
Rotting carcass,
festering soars on an
open heart, exposed
a world so different.
Abused by everyone and anyone,
a nation unable to trust
you? I must
for the first time.
Scared rats bury deeper into the heap
of what they know.
You have whiskers and claws,
I wouldn't let them beat you
Pakka
trust me I won't
carry you on my shoulders
the whole way screaming
child, memories. Too many screams
haunt my dreams. A past
I don't recognise but
a path I tread to find you.
Regret
at not cleaning the country,
wiping clean the mirror of dust.
The pile grew with
blue skies and no rain.
A droubt of emotions.
Others dump baggage
and children played with plastic
cartons;
turning rubbish into gold.
The future is Hope.
ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
fast beating
my heart with your in
-toxic wasteland, wild dogs
couldn't pull me away.
Carrion crawling a
cross to mark the human
life pronounced.
Shown
in technicolour for the first
time. More rubbish for the heaps
of admirers.
Rotting carcass,
festering soars on an
open heart, exposed
a world so different.
Abused by everyone and anyone,
a nation unable to trust
you? I must
for the first time.
Scared rats bury deeper into the heap
of what they know.
You have whiskers and claws,
I wouldn't let them beat you
Pakka
trust me I won't
carry you on my shoulders
the whole way screaming
child, memories. Too many screams
haunt my dreams. A past
I don't recognise but
a path I tread to find you.
Regret
at not cleaning the country,
wiping clean the mirror of dust.
The pile grew with
blue skies and no rain.
A droubt of emotions.
Others dump baggage
and children played with plastic
cartons;
turning rubbish into gold.
The future is Hope.
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