ISN'T MY AFRICA?

The land of my childhood

playground of my infancy

floor of brotherhood

head of my hair-grown

I

Lay my hand on the fence

of verandah i see the looming of danger



I

Walk in to view the dusty floor of passage

it was all and on the bed bugs and cockroaches

flying on and on the red ink wall

and dirteous wrinklings wall

where we can say all to move un-neat



I

can't see you well

with sharpness of my eyes

i think you are mine

all through to the end of lame wall



i would strike like ant intending to carry sugar-cube

economy is enemy "shield or sword"

i tan my skin,you call the surgeon

there's giant hides between two cottons

of black and white espouse rain-drop

who punish my unthankful-grace-

wall beside my wall is still my wall



i could conceal the moon and confine myself

but i must be the tanner of my skin

i vomit the sin of glory

guilt of offence is in heart of sin

i taste the agony of daylong

looking like bladder of tiger

i would chill and starve the mid-morning

i guild myself, suspect you



indispensable,too much expensive

highly value unbought

of worthy of no diamondwell

silversea is value

no you value what you




Author's Notes/Comments: 

the more you value yourself,magnify the more of your dignity

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