On the golden streets i look for the well off,
I cast my eyes for the lucky
Those whose bottoms are sealed and on top they stand,
Their needs seem not to exist
And the only thing they cant afford is breath
Since i hear they can prolong death in incubators and surgery motels
I need to see the well off
I need to take simple selefie with them as a souvenir
Those whose words can bring or take life
Those that change wheels for pleasure
Those that eat already made food
Dress in already made suits
And posses already made smiles
Where are they?
Those souls that brighten the future
Those that decorate and give life hope
The lifefulls who know not of the lifeless
Where could they be?
Those peaceful who to them beauty is a disturbance
Those whose hands only get stained by money
Do you plan of meeting me in heaven or hell?
That is if any exists anyway....
Why then not treat me as a destiny mate?
Okay as future happiness sharing partner
Together we are that miracle Ugandan pastors can't perform
Together we are the truth politicians will never tell
Together we are that breath witchdoctors and medical doctors will never provide
Together we create freedom the colonialists gave in deceit
Together we are that love without exs and future successfull move on's.
If you look around and see that rag in a person's shape,
If you see that begging hand on a non appetizing street,
If you hear of the that hungry mammal with no leaves and soil to eat,
If you watch a laughing dying soul,
If you hear of those voices of a mother in labor in the nearest banana plantation,
If you hear my voice in numerous churches , shrines and mosques looking for testimony
Dont judge or neglect the dramatic scenes,
Am yearning for your considerate mind,
Am out for your brotherly touch of mercy,
Looking for your surplus words of hope and encouragement,
And a token of good will and minding our future
Hope you hear me.
Till we meet in our fateful destination