I'm hearing sounds of broken dreams, I stand still in the middle of the night and let the tears drip down the side of my face. It's all fading so fast and I'm powerless to stop the rut.
In the news all I see is sad news. One man shoots, another man bombs. Humans comstantly finding ways to kill, mame and destroy. I think the devil dwells amongst us. I think there is no hell. I think we're living in hell and death is our only respite from this pain filled world.
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I hear a baby crying in the distant, her mum abandoned her, Her mum was forced into this situation. A child is brought into this world by circumstance, random bad luck, "chance and no hope for a future. Born to b e another number in the death toll caused by this sad world.
I try to study but there's no electricity. It's dark, pitch black darkness and I can't even see what lies right in front of me. I'm told that times will be better, yet it only seems to be getting worst as the days go by. Just like every other day, I wish I was never born, I wish the ground would open up it's mouth and swallow me. What's the essence of living if it's going to be in pitch blackness. Yet again, I'm powerless, incapable of stopping the rut, so I tarry till my days come to an end.
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I'd like to look to God and talk with a holy man but alas, they all want my money. I can't close my eyes for too long because I might literally lose my head. There's people out there waitng to seize the opportunity. There's really no saying the extent the rut has eating into, so we pray in silence, with our eyes wide open; in these rickety busses, in our delapitated airplanes, our shoddy streets and in the dirty market places.Perhaps it is true what they say, that Africa is God's blind spot