I am reminded of the advice of my neighbor. “Never worry about your heart till it stops beating. E.B. White
The Yaka meter is bleeping with more urgency
“Come on man, I need some currency”
The landlady just made a demand for rent
“If you can’t handle it, I suggest you buy a tent”.
The conductor yells “Zibulako bulaadi”
But there’s no paper on you except your debit card,
You wonder whether to turn to your neighbour
To ask “Can you please do me a favour?”
They say the price of everything is climbing
Yet the value of the shilling is falling
Your fake Clarks are slanting
Your Rolex has stopped working.
Everything is rising
Rising like the morning sun
Except it’s all so hurried
Hurrying like a pc fan.
Hope is going with the wind
Faith keeps sinking
Bank of U has resigned us
To nailbiting schemes.
And no one seems to notice
There’s no CBR on love
That love’s the currency of life.
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?