To some she seems less appealing; by skins of shedding away snakes. Liars in the world with venomous words, But there's a city on fire,βin the burning eyes of the bright future I see in her.
Clean streets; at least better than a capital, chilled vibes, and no rush to the stresses we all got to face. Faces of a bright smile; but of late hidden under a surgical mask.
Sky's the limit in skies, but we're limited by the resources we once had. "Salibonani mama/baba," greeting my elders out of respect. A mix of black, white coloured, indian, and many more; the dish of flavours going well with good fellowship at church.
Race barriers still exist; but maybe we ignore it enough that it seems little. The writing is on the wall!
Many tribes, but my tribe is of great people. Aren't we all, despite of upbringing or class, status, hierarchy, or density highs or low.