My empty stamuch

 

 

I am rolling like a tin in road

Making no noise but making some noise

On the side of the standing but failing,

Lack of Ideas 

Full of roughly fears

That makes a river flow on my face that tears

Whenever they see me they feel like squashing me like a paper,

 

I stand in road waiting for some help

Looking for shelter

Looking for hand to touch me

Calling help help me

I’m having a paper in my hand written

No food,no job,no shelter

Those who are black like me they can’t feel for me.

All they say is irritating things

On my ear I can hear it rings.

 

My starving stamuch makes stands here

Stand here looking for food

Nobody seems to understand

I’m like Mandela on an Island

But looking for God as he’s an eyeland

I can hear them talking about freedom

But I’m waiting for christ kingdom

My starving stamuch makes noise

My mouth is dry I feel like I can cry

I’m a meat on the sun as it fry.

Maybe if I can call “umshiniwami”

I’ll find an earth warm

 

But my starving stamuch is making noise

Awche,that a pain I feel.

With a tin in hand looking for money

For those who can commit

The smell in my body they even say I’m gona make them vomit.

God as I’m sleeping along this walls

They’re penetrating me with lies

Not realising that I can materialise

Weeping in those of good buildings

Nobody seems to help

Not forgeting that I am HIV

How I can take my ARV’s

 

On an empty stamuch

God today I’m writing this poem

With the last energy

In the I used to be alergic

But there’s no more and no tomorrow

If I die I hope I’m gona see her

Ask her to forgive me

She died because of me on that HIV

I’m sorry lovey

Because of my empty stamuch I can even die

 

-DaSoulstriker-

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