Boys Of West Africa

They ran just in pants, as fast has their little legs could carry them scurrying their legs past the old woman’s gruesome cooking pot, past her irritated frown. Such a jocund mood they were in.

They ran on naked soles across the embodied gunky soil into brown waters, splashing their hectic joy around them passers-by trying to avoid a crash and escape drops of mucky water they ran past swinging their little arms in abandonment

They ran, their shrill voices shooing the birds away in the trees making a cause of wonder to the whole world, they jump over rotten wood
crawling under rusted and broken bars avoiding all sort of obstacles hindering their elated path, nothing could stop them.

At night they'd sit down and listen with rapt attention, their eyes opened wide in wonder to stories from faraway lands, their chins resting on their hands. And when they sleep they'd dream of
things beyond the waters, wetting their beds.