We The Freedom Fighters

Its a Monday morning - oh! Monday morning,
The day that always ends up in pain and agony,
What evil have we done to deserve this?

On streets fighting for our freedom,
The freedom our fathers fought for,
Suddenly smog appears,
It is the government distributing the relief food,
Either you want it or not you'll get it,
For they say they have plenty of it in store ,
And generous they are-see-

But we are the solitary street travellers,
Fearing death and wearing masks of fear,
But satisfied we are that we need no more food,
And it makes us reticent,
And start dreaming of utopia,

The tussle is over,
People are wailing and dying,
Doctors who were resting no longer rest now,
Busy they are resuscitating the victims of the day,
They wish their patients could postpone their agony until when they'll be resting again,
But wishes -

Few survived rest gone to the west,
These becomes the headlines in our broadcasting houses,
Did you see that ? Here it is .look
They say the dead are heroes of the Nation,

Though they'll have their universal funeral in the west,
Recurrent grave of days mighty soul,
But there's much to remember ,
And little to forget ,
But is this the freedom our ancestors fought for ?
When greatness dies a simple death-

By Kenyatta Junior

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