So as precisely as possible bro,
I wanna answer each question.
before you decide whether you wanna conform
To the popular belief about where we were born.
First, peace and tranquility are long gone
its gunshots and scream that fill the horn.
People no longer sit outside admiring the sun,
what with every crazy kid around toting a gun?.
And the stars look down on us with scorn.
Sometimes I wonder if our sins are too big to atone.
Our skies? They are now no fly zones
Not only planes, even birds get shot down,
if you get a fat one, its food for everyone …
Elders, children, I mean everyone.
Remember the babies you left, that had just been born,
you should see them now,they are all grown.
Half of them anyway, the rest got killed
by guns, diseases, famine or in boats that capsized,
they walk around with AKs, bazookas, grenades and what not…
Remember Hasaan? He used to sell pots
Man, his whole family got shot,
they couldn’t pay gangsters, he is the only one left.
No, the fishermen no longer spread their nets,
And you might have heard we recently had a drought
No supplies bro, shit! The death it brought!
and the nomads no longer graze their goats,
a few cow are left, the rest got lost.
the rain has slowed the troops south and west.
the Weaver bird no longer builds her nest,
and birds wail, they no longer sing like the rest.
Yes, it still floods here, adding to the tragedies.
grain is all eaten, kids no longer bury seeds.
Remember the sweet sounds? The whistling of the winds?
well, the winds are still there, but there are no trees.
they became firewood, got sold at Moqdishu,
The rest made charcoal, ported off kismayu.
We no longer sit around fires and recite, do you?
You should see the beaches, they are still beautiful man!
Though sometimes they wash up bodies of dead men,
women looking for peace, die with their children.
I have no words to describe mothers’ eyes and pain.
When they watch their sons’ lives waste and end
Few have managed to escape, they now live in camps
Yea, good neighbors set up few Daadabs,
but citizens still treat them like crap,
Even some Muslim brothers treat them like scam.
You should visit the camps man, they’re filled with grime.
Life there is not worth a dime
our girls are raped, we hear that everytime.
you can fell hatred from locals anytime.
Yes bro, they think all we know is crime.
You can feel their thoughts “your fallen state is yours
we are doing well, don’t bring failure to ours ”
You asked about poetry? Its almost dead
The poets just compose melodies in their heads
the beautiful hand Downs? Just few strands
No one recites them, Fuck times are hard!
injustice is everywhere but no one stands
Against it boy that’ll leave you dead
you won’t be the first to bleed for being heard
And we won’t mourn, tears have all been shed.
Buildings have holes, all bullet riddled,
some are empty shells, blown away by a grenade.
if you are sick here, we’ll watch get dead,
we’ll sit around your mat, no one affords a bed.
oh, and the expectant mothers, some labour to death.
And satan no longer stabs children, he now kills ’em,
Tears them apart, our work is to bury them.
plus gangsters are forcing us to shoot for them
they killed old men for refusing, Yes they did!!
they say Janna awaits you, if your heart gets stopped,
so should I kill brothers and call that jihad??
is that jihad? not from the little I’ve heard. ..
I wrote long, to say what it is like here,
If I wrote everything, it’d take a whole year
we will overcome this, we will persevere
But don’t forget where you’re from, even over there.
I believe one day we will attain peace,
our children will sing, dance and swim in the seas.
Pass my regards to all brothers and sisters,
Tell them to visit one of these days.
We still miss y’all, and love you like always
and bro, quit smoking blunts,whatever that is.