The lone race of a thousand peers,
Some died, others lived, to be killed.
Every 206 bones survived,
Some made it and are roving lost,
Others, comfortable in lust,
Made to believe what they hear, trust.
Midget Tall creatures they meet-
Cheers to ‘He’ who initiated the race,
Left winners, allowed them to live;
Cheers to ‘She’ who nurtured the pace,
Left winners, allowed them to live.
From she, to life, I was given birth,
Tears, killer of my first quiet death,
Beside the first house I ever slept,
Laid strongly weak tearful women,
Looking lazy to speak but cry,
Probably praying God, to die;
Amongst sad faces, I found mine:
Dark skin melanin African breed,
Staying strong from child birth blood bleed,
With a smile sowed as a true seed,
Planted one I’ll always need (Love).
Grew up to lone battles not fought,
Memories not had, hearts unbroken.
In a life of guns, swords and knives,
I was handed weapon of ‘Love’,
From a woman I met at birth,
Who claims me to be her dear world,
Don’t know, but I believe her words,
With actions, those words do grow tall.
A woman who don’t have it all,
But God’s name, she taught me to call,
And now, l can stand every fall.
With character bricks of guidance,
She’s carefully building me for another
To breed winners from my race, and
Love me like she does.. after we tie knots.