Abdul-Rauf Akan-mwanatechaab

Brothers in Skirt

14th July 2021

Let the world hear us
For worried is our soul
Through this land of ours
Let this pensive word be told
That ours has moved backward
And our lives continue to wobble
For we forge not together forward
Upon our own brethren we call trouble
Let the sad sound of gongs be heard
That brothers wine with a wicked head
And these smiles are only but a mere mask
To shield their want for a brother’s dusk
And those tongues be the toughest bones
That pierce to pieces reputes of pious ones
And those tongues be like ancient flutes
That churn out chorused tasty tricky tunes
To twist the face of another’s living story
Just so they slay another living glory
O you descendants of Christ’s Judas
You dwell without piety in a pious place
You joyously whisper around like a lass
While bathing in olives all times all days
For anointing of lies to tear down others
For eel-like tongues to lie about brothers
Who live only in the Lord as you claim to
Whose rise is through the lord’s ladder too
Why wish to see another down trodden
When you profess the rule so golden
Save God’s will, not even a fly gets hurt
So you forever are brothers in skirt

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