You call it freedom;I call it doom of the free

You call it freedom
I call it doom of the free
For we are still washed
Faith washed, whiter than the snow we seek
Garment washed, naked our women walk
Language washed, our mother tongues are just
But other tongues
Brain washed, slaves of our own accord

You call it freedom
I call it doom of the free
For we are still submitting
Submission of the flesh to their experiments
Drugs, AIDS, birth control, Abortions
Submission of the will
Their will to control all our resources
Draining our brains, mines,
Darfur, Nigeria, Zimbabwe & Sierra Leone

You call it freedom
I call it doom of the free
Submission to their gods
While they Anglicanise and ordain fagots to the alter
Altering our faith in their white gods
Because we buried and forgot our own Murungu
Enkai, Mungu and Ngai

You call it freedom
I call it doom of the free
They shipped our brothers & Sisters in ships
To sugar and cotton plantations
And we fought to be free,
To return to our motherland
Mother Africa to abode with our ancestors
Now, we migrate to their aged homes
To wipe shit from their grandmothers
While we clean toilets grappling with dreams
Of making it in the land of the free

You call it freedom
I call it doom of the free

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N.W
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About Kenyan Poet

Showcasing the best in Kenyan Arts;Music,writing,Poetry,fine art and art reviews as well as info on emerging art trends. “Art is not about thinking something up. It is the opposite…getting something down.”