I am strolling along those endless winding roads. I used to be such a jovial person but now all that I feel are those hard tears falling down my weary face.
My soul is saddened to the point of death as I survey all the cruelty instead of beauty.
Every day it is so tiresome to open a newspaper because I know what I will read inside of it. The same news that I read yesterday or two days ago nothing has changed
Crime is still rife in my country of birth. A farmer, to the man on the street or child in the house or walking to the malls. Where is the justice for them? Their poor souls cry to the vast heavens but no answer cometh forth.
They die in vain with no real satisfaction. Their loved ones cannot even give them a decent send-off.
I see a man of every colour, nationality, and creed scratching in those filthy rat-infested bins for a mere morsel to eat sometimes they get lucky other times they walk away with nothing but the tattered torn rags on their fragile frame.
Yet we are all born from the same sand even that sand ridicules us because of the way we live.
Also, I see man’s greed, envy, and jealousy; judgmental faces no compassion on their faces.
What terrible crime did this human race commit? Nothing is sacred anymore. We take what is not ours with no guilt or consequences of our actions.
Why do we always have to wear that invisible pretentious facial mask that has become like a second skin to us. We even sleep with it.
I guess to my mind we will never be able to write a new chapter in history because it will be the same history for years to come unless we start by not putting the blame on other people’s doors and start to look deep down our own souls.
