War Child’s Reply

Let me keep my armour
Because promises are like flowers
The more things change
The more I become strange
My guns will be the tool I use
To plant bullet seeds in the ground
So that promises can grow like flowers
Then wither within weeks
These land mines are mine
My heritage
My coming of age
I can’t hear the time bombs ticking
I became deaf from all my secret screaming
The more things change
The more I go out of range
I’m just war child now.

Mildred Achoch is a poet, screenwriter and the founder of Rock 'n' Roll Film Festival, Kenya (ROFFEKE) She can be reached at mildandred@gmail.com. Read other articles by Mildred.