My Worry Poem by Amos Christopherson Masereka

On the mountain cliff we moved tired
Every leader on their own
No one to help the other
Children screams were heard in remoteness
We then met ourselves as little children
And helped to uplift ourselves
In our past journeys
We impressed ourselves beside comfort trees
We often cried unheard
Now we are of age and mature
You have moved from this job to that
Everything you touch fails
There are things you taught me
And I thank you endless
For I believe if I leave you
I will always be my worry