Madiba, my eyes remain dry, my lips yet un-tense
Yes, I have not shed a tear (I hope that makes sense)
Since the many lips started wagging in anticipation
Eyes shedding false tears, mine I held in constipation.
Should I have wept that the iroko shook in a breeze?
My tears should not for that seek undue release
Yes, the mighty iroko that ruled the forest for decades
Deserves a gentle shake… and rest under oak shades.
The kernel of Africa inside me knew. Yes, I knew
Madiba would not bow out before the flashbulb crew
Vultures worshipping the gods of the color screens
Hungry hawks with inky claws, awaiting wailing sirens!
Madiba, cut your cake…the vultures Can Not Negate
Yes, pour wine – Bored Bleeding Cameras can wait
We, your children, will dance to the song of your voice
Let the other ones fondle the breasts of their toys!
Written by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson