You can look for me in Nairobi city,
Where there are men with salt and pepper hair,
Men with potbellies and grey beards on their chests,
Big men with small hearts and full pockets.
Men who swipe golden cards,
I won't promise you'll find me,
You might not even like the person you'll see,
But if you do, don't cry for me .
There are days,
Maybe weeks,
I spent alone wondering what we'd talk about when we meet.
Should we talk about my looks,
Or my appearance ,
Or those days we sat and laughed together,
Or those times you fed me with your hands,
Maybe I 'll tell you about my future plans instead.
If you don't find me,
I may have met my end.
I know I often danced to the tunes of life before the beats of experience .
I always went to it blindly,
In your silence you warned me.
But I was young,
So fresh and life held so much promise.
I was ready to make a pact
With the devil to rush it.
But know this too is true,
Sometimes I was happy ,
My ribs hurt.
Other times ( most of the time ) I was faking it,
But I want you to hold on to 'those sometimes' .
Dear mother,
When you miss me more than you want to,
Take 'those sometimes' with you and walk down that bridge.
Sit with them like you would me,
Now breath and let the wind blowing take away your pain.
I won't promise it will all go away,
It just won't be heavy the same way.
Don't go yet,
Close your eyes,
I know you will see me .
Tears will threaten to fall,
The kind that is salty it burns.
The ones that will flow from the wells of your soul.
Swallow them,
Am not worth of them,
Let them all flow inside your stomach.( but in the end am still your child, I know you'll lie and cry)
With time you will close your eyes,
You won't see me.
I'm fading
It's okay,
Don't feel bad,
I won't feel bad also. ( how could I?)
So dear mother,
Don't beat up yourself.
It wasn't you,
I chose this cross myself.