In my stuffy library lies a moldy collection of poems I penned during my undergrad days at KU.
Gleaning over them after two decades, I find the poems particularly angry, morose even.What was making me so at only 24?But in a way, they capture the zeitgeist- the spirit of the age;the last years of Moi autocracy were quite gloomy for Kenya as a nation.
Not all poems therein are that melancholic though.This short vignette has a ring of hope around it:
YOU ARE YOURS
Even when the world,
Takes everything else from you,
Even when you are left with nothing,
Keep yourself for you,
For you are yours.
One day,when I get enough muses,I will revisit poetry writing.
