a breathe on the mirror.

today was going
to be a good day,
today I was going
to receive my very first
poetry cheque.

dawn come with merry sounds,
the sun set the mood right,
everything felt perfect,
I knew it was going to be great.

humming and whistling,
I hoped from room to room,
my legs taken hostage by anxiety
I couldn’t wait to walk out the door.

walking down the street
you could see the bounce in my step,
I could feel the breeze on my chest,
I could picture my problems go to rest.

down globe round about
reality struck breathe from my lungs,
barely able to move a step
Joy crumbled at the site ahead.

“nisaidie,nisaidie,nisaidie”
I couldn’t stomach the site,
I couldn’t fathom the plight
of the street families on that pavement.

Hungry, weary and inhumane;
there they lay on cartons
begging from us-the ‘busy’ Nairobians,
pleading to that rare compassionate ear.

I saw this child follow strangers,
hold their hands for mercy,
run after that flickering flame of hope,
run after the only meal she may get.

a few steps down the pavement,
her mother on her knees begged to,
the sight of this humiliation,
the reality of these situations

broke me into tears,
I felt irrelevant,
felt this was wrong in so many levels,
seeing a parent and her child beg on the streets

It was saddening and inhuman
for no one to offer a helping hand,
so I write this today,
plead with you, to be kind unto these families
plead with you to help them next you meet.

©Mwangi Njoroge.