Its hot like soup
and bitter like pepper.
More of pain
than how it can gain.
It's separating me from you,
it's killing our love
and it's taking away our brotherhood.
This is a forced divorced.
I know u would want we remain tight
but this pressure is too high.
Look at what we have achieved
and let this political madness go.
I live in fear
but I want u to promise me some things.
You'll not burn my house
nor kill my brothers and sisters.
You'll not make me an orphan
and you'll not chase me from my land.
Assure me my business will be safe
and my movement will not be disrupted.
Call me a Kenyan
and let me be your tribe's man.
I feel the tense
so listen to my pleas
Let's build it together
and let's mentor it together
I mean let's make it better
than bring it to a taste that is bitter.
I call it peace
when others say it's a political piece.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (PEACE by Cunningham Mbati )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(2 November 1994)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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