I Lost My Own is a short Poem by Brian Mwansa.
In this Piece of art, he relates the pain we go through when when we physically lose the people we love so much to death. Further, He talks about the hypocrisy behind Politics, Betrayal of friendship, Hygiene and more. Read the Short masterPiece and suggest what other hidden meaning comes with the package.
LIFE AND LIVING
I lost my own
They put my sighing to scorn
They thought I was mad, when I I began to mourn
He died, after he had grown.
A gulf fixed between was drawn
positive burden bearers were ever alone
My heart was and still is catastrophically torn
I ponder if that awkward race will wisely be won.
My brothers and sisters have been taken and have gone
That bitter thorn, must not have been sown:
I pour out my spirit within me, every dawn
I am an eagle, soon, you will mourn, but when I have flown.
Almost caught and seen, yet I was clean
What I am saying is what I mean
I overheard my leader emphasizing on good hygiene
Will my melodious mistress complain again?
Now listen; when cooking, cleanse your kitchen
This plea must wreak wonders when you hearken
Cleanliness, why on earth will you carelessly be forsaken?
Is that what you want, seeing us dying like frogs in the desert, you are so uncertain.
Scrutinize the predominance of a green-clean campaign
Just to put it in action and internalization, none has been taken
I miss the valiance of a Cobra, a bisector of a fervent action
Was it here all would see his overwhelming reaction.
Every negligent citizen must face a sanction
This articulation needs a consolation
Not a procrastination and an addition to deterioration
A working solution, in a way so profound and profusion.
Away from pragmatics, Cholera you are a muderer
A vain stories adherer
The president’s admirer.
You’ve conquered in vain, miss vain conqueror
You are merciless, madam Cholera
You are heartless, vicious princes Cholera
You are dangerous and senseless, devilish Cholera.
Beautiful song singers, help me sing a silently sung sweet sounding sighing special seasonal song
A song, I’ve waited for so long
I die to sing it, do not prolong
My malefactor, Cholera, you are wrong.
I am now a skink and/or, a mink
From now on, it’s a hard nut to crack that I should blink
I will wait until you partake of the sorrows I drink
Then, we will wisely link.