The Village Boy

With muscles and height I adored,

His teeth I adored,

White as snow I dare say,

His heart as pure as a baby’s

A warrior amongst the warriors,

For his people he knew to defend

Strange how he gazed

Like the future he knew for sure,

He, my dear friend was the village boy

 

Hatred and Anger he knew not,

A smile he always had,

For today he could say

Was the only surety he had

My dear friend I tell you,

His voice was music to my heart,

Many adored his steps

For he moved with grace,

And he knew no race

 

With sadness he laid to rest

The fallen heroes he called them,

Love he preached for friends and foes,

I tell you, he walked in humility,

Strangely he walked in sovereignty,

How I wish I would be near him,

His hand in mine he would lay

The village boy my friend,

Was sweeping the village

And cleaning the households,

Of its dust and filth

 

Do you understand my friend?

That which I try to say,

Of whom I speak

Yes the village boy

He who brought love peace and joy,

But he who the village showed pain

Oh! How I wonder so

For I looked at his eyes

When they matched him off the streets,

To the village square,

Oh! How I wonder so

 

When I looked at his bruised back,

When he was lashed,

Before the women and children,

Stop I wanted to say,

But fear,

Oh my dear friend,

Shame

I tell you my friend,

For this was the village boy,

The one I adored

The one I cared for,

Do you understand my friend,

Of whom I speak of

Yes my friend,

He was the village boy

 

 By: Beatrice A. Ouma

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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