My best friend told me I shouldn’t put this in what I write
Because there’s love, peace, beauty, calmness in what I write
But I swear to God these poems ain’t like any you’ve heard before
The sticks will come for you like a thief in the night
Like death on a party night

Say no and I build a fist, you will fear it might
Politicians hear me and the run in search for Christ

The streets despise me for the truth that I speak
I say the streets fear me for the truth that I spit
Kerosene to inspire flames, burn till all left is the true reflection of our damned society

So sleep on me if you are sleepy
sleep on me
this won’t be anything close to mediocrity
So sleep!

“Young king speak your truth
Young Queen speak your truth”


My best friend told me I shouldn’t put this in what I write
But I did
There’s pain in what I write
There’s anger in what I write
Frustrations, no punctuations in what I write
Revenge in what I write
Vulgar in what I write

Tell me how to write about rape, corruption, injustice, religion and love without being true to myself

My poems are like, Ghana, China, Sudan, Amsterdam, America, England, Somalia, the Vatican, Syria, Kenya, Nigeria, Haiti
Don’t hate it
Ethiopia, I’m not here to paint a
UTOPIA

Because
There’s pain in what I write
There’s anger in what I write
Frustrations, no punctuations in what I write
Revenge in what I write
Vulgar in what I write
The lines will come for you like a thief in the night
Death on a party night
Resist and I clinch a fist, you will fear it might
Politicians hear me and they run in search for Christ
But he won't be anywhere near to save them

Put on your seat belt, be ready for take off, its gonna be a long flight!