It was never about the teddy bear
It just sits there
Well actually, It lies there
Have you ever noticed that about teddy’s
They always lie at 45 to 60 degree angles
I digress
It should be about the teddy
You go to the hospital
People see a teddy, they smile
I wasn’t smiling
No, I wasn’t smiling that day
But as teddy said
At least you don’t need a dna test
Definitely didn’t need a dna test
Just a large drink
Several large drinks
None for teddy
That would be irresponsible
Teddy still makes jokes about it
No night feeds for you
No crying
You’ve had a lucky escape
I sit him up straight
Ten minutes later
He’s on his side
That's life.

My heart will never cease to bleed
I'll never stop thinking about the life they lead
My soul will keep aching for them in need
toiling for another half a decade due to them with greed
my eyes will never cease to see their deed
and ponder why did them,God have to seed
my feet are tired of wishing they could go an extra mile
maybe take some gunfire, burn for my country man to smile
my back is broken by the weight of my rage
it's a fire that isn't dying out, will I ever turn the page?
I'm stuck in a labyrinth of contemplation
wondering what other illness awaits my nation
besides ignorance, illiteracy, corruption,tyranny and fear
& much more, yet I still appreciate hailing from mid the sphere
There's a throb rooted deep in my mind
pondering what on earth could make one so unkind
I hope someday to injustice I'll be blind
I hope a day will come when I'll leave behind
these whys,hows, whats and whens like it never was
I hope time heals all wounds as the saying goes
otherwise I believe the cut is deep and infested
  by the loathing for everyone who stood by a government
we badly wanted away and a system we detested
I've tried to have the pain excreted but it's all digested
it's overdue and getting me dizzy due to the ferment
the memory is fresh, the election a forgotten torment
to some but to many like me it's here,it's every moment
it's that grass thatched house at angle theta or beta
it's the agony of the teacher, doctor & whoever's bitter
it's a sting worse than a cut by a banister's wrong splinter
it's the south pole in juxtaposition to winter
it's that malnourished barefooted child battling a jigger
it's the starving,and those plagued by poverty with food but meagre
from my position this wasn't a loss to the opposition
it was a golden chance ripped off the feeble hands of the next generation
a robbery in plain sight,hit below the belt in our fight
my fingers will never tire of typing about this plight
for the crested crane was shot midway her flight
fooled to go to the polls and defiled worse than a little girl
my prowess will but always demand for a piece
about the day we totally lost the beautiful pearl
and thence not a single heart ever knew true peace
not the losers as we have been falsely accused
but worse, not kigundu and many more who were used

The truth of the matter is
That we only get angry
For three reasons,
All of which can be
Traced back to fear

1. Not understanding:
When one understands
The actions of another
It becomes easier
To respond calmly

2. Being ashamed:
Whether they meant it
That way or not
Shame is a choice
If we had known better,
We would've done better.

3. Being hurt:
Only the things
We cannot let go of
Will end up choking us
Whether it is love
Or pride and honor
Choose your responce
Not out of spite,
But to create understanding.

The number of times
I've said the words
"I'm not angry,
This is my face"
And the number of times
I've waited my time
To give them what for
Just to make them see
Things from the other side.

And the number of times
I've swallowed my pride
And whispered
you're right
The number of times
I've found happiness
In being taught a lesson

*Because when I know better, I can do better. However choose the way to teach a lesson carefully, it can make us greater or smaller. Choose your weapon carefully.

I was going over all the mistakes I’ve made in my life.
There’s been a few.
Though, I have now boiled it down to one point in my life.
The wedding.
There was only one option.
In hindsight, there really should have been three.
Do you take this woman on a six month contract.
I do, seems like a good deal all round for both parties.
Do you take this woman on a need to know basis.
I do, one just never knows what’s lurking behind women these days.
Do you take this woman till a better one comes along.
I do, this is definitely the best option.
I now pronounce you duly contracted.

British people hate foreigners.
It’s nothing personal.
They’re just not British.
Brits go abroad to try the local cuisine, and get a heat.
This will last one day.
The second day they’ll put tomato sauce on everything that moves.
This includes the food they bring with them.
Brits abroad will search out the British pub.
This is called the Irish bar.
Brits will lie in the sun for twelve hours.
Suffering first degree burns.
Convinced the next day they’ll be golden brown.
Brits abroad are easily recognisable.
By the Manchester United strips they wear.
Though they don't actually live in Manchester.
Brits abroad dislike other Brits who live in the next town to them.
Brits abroad will give strangers their last penny, or kick the crap out of them.
Brits abroad will tell anybody listening.
Britain gave the world everything.
From the Steam engine, to the Beatles.
Plus winning two world wars.
Foreigners will shake their heads  in total disbelief and agreement.
Then think to themselves.
How the hell did they do it.

You gotta let the blood out the body
You gotta let it all fade away
Once the blood is out the body
Then the body can reawake

You gotta walk the streets at night
Watch the victims shining bright
Waiting for dreams that never come true
Clinging to life nearly through

You gotta let the blood out the body
You gotta let it all fade away
Once the blood is out the body
Then the body can reawake

You gotta watch their eyes
No hiding, no disguise
Vacant pools lacking soul
Destiny’s ashes burning coals

You gotta let the blood out the body
You gotta let it all fade away
Once the blood is out the body
Then the body can reawake

You gotta cut the body wide
Gotta cut it deep inside
See the pictures life unfold
Death in jars, story told.

There many more gifted Writers then myself here on the earth.
So I know the truth, that  I am a ok writer whom allow Christ.
To write poetry that is Great through me, not entirely me whom writes.
For he wants to use us all through our writing to bless others here.
For he will always add to a offering in his name to bless our gifts.
To reveal himself to everyone else through each of our gifts here.
When we give the gift to him and deciated it to him here as well.
For there are by more ways to give to God then just our money.
For its far better to look beyond our-self to want others healed.