I'm out of words to write
Yet my emotions erupt.
Deep within I'm still ignite
But thinking process is corrupt

Sounds of beagle plays for me
I'm no longer the poet I use to be.
Words have escaped
My passion betrayed.

I'm like a wounded soldier
Who can no longer fight?
Should I give up?
Or should I write?

I’m in the dark
Yet I try so hard.
For Poetry is my light,
Poetry is my life,
But the luck of inspiration killing my soul.

Nine months of pain
Just for someone's life to gain
Liters of shaded tears
It's worth it, she smiles and cheers -

Sleepless days and nights
caused by annoyance and cries
pukes and poo’s, it just not right
but she embraces and carries
the fruit of her belly with pride.
-
18 years of education she provides
love, joy, and kindness she Inculcate,
that happiness can be the ones guide

Nine months of pain
18 years she sustains
for a lifetime, she observes your growth
now tell me?
What’s a women’s worth?
-

I live a life of full stress and pain
I live a life with nothing to gain.
From poverty I feed
From diseases I bleed.
This is the life I live.
as  an African boy.

I'm a African boy
I’m a goat herder,
I’m a farmer
I plant seeds and watch the grow,
And in the fall, I reap what I sow.

Feeding the animals every day
And giving the cows plenty of hay,
Ensure the hens get plenty of seeds.
And others get what they need.

I’m an African boy.

Life in African can be little rough
But I survive from being tough.
Rewards may not seem great,
But the Lord provides if I wait.

Over the years never seem to lack,
Nourishment or clothes on my back;
I appreciate all I get
But God is the one that bless.

I’m an African boy.

Return to me darling

If

possible.