Spoilt Child... Poem by Meshack Sewe

I’m a spoiled child, my dad is Bill
Our kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
My conception on a desktop, in a hard wheezing disk;
My delivery, through a window, dodging swine-virus risk;
My restroom, air-conditioned, in mother’s pregnant board;
Our receptionist, in charge, welcoming icons aboard;
Our mansion has spare rooms, with backup storage slots;
Our kitchen is African, with smiling cooking pots;
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…

Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…..
Friends, all rich, chauffeured by daddy’s drivers;
Home fence, all pest-proof, free from fornicating lizards;
Visitors, some welcomed by father’s genius wizards;
Messenger, never argues, an obedient cute little mouse!
Compound, so green, all members can browse
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…


Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill
Our farms, awesome, all initiates explore;
Fun-rooms, romantic, young tourists adore;
Music, so soothing like death-bed tranquilizers;
Sound Pitch, harmonious with smiling equalizers;
Language, so sacred, our dictionary in binary;
Secrets, well hidden as resentments of an emissary;
Theatre, so specious with father’s grand platform;
Food, straws of fire, few souls can fathom;
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill….

Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
We conquerors of souls, rulers of the universe;
Older folks elude us like an old Greek verse;
Young folks hobnob us, our company, their game;
The blue-tied befriend us, our wealth, their fame;
“Facebookers” kiss us, our infatuation, their network;
Evil souls, seduce us, our grief, their pork.
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…
Just who can foot our Bill…
The Bill of our Gate…
The Gate of our Father?
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill
Long live our Bill Gate! !
Long live my dad!

(INSPIRED BY THE COMPUTER WORLD)