Even though adult,We still cry

Every one cries,

For tears are made of emotions,

Emotions, are why we are humans,

Humans of Kampala..

Some behaving like Impalas,

Like Ssempala,

Pursuing some Muwala..

Drinking Marwa or Malwa..

In Mbalwa…

Abanywi muliwa?

The last time to shed a tear or two,

Was when I lost a catch,

When all I knew was that catch,

At campus, University Hall,

The only hole I knew in that Hall

Wait, then my brother passed on,

And I shed a gallon,

A gallon I shed,

My heart

bled to pieces,

I thought he was immortal…

It was a lonely surreptitious surrender,

Like a fly

that follows the dead in a grave,

I wanted to die,

I don’t lie..

Walayi…

Like the late Wamayi ..

I once cried, at the funeral of our village chief,

Then the dogs began to imitate,

And ululate,

Wuuuuullluuuullluuuuuuuu!

Pointing thier Kakwitsi mouths to the North,

Where upon, Kafiti the Village Wag,

Prophesied that they meant no well…

I dried my tears and began to smile..

Like Kafiti the Village Wag…

I cried with our dogs

This is a doggy world