By Lynn Muriuki
Ever tried walking on a rope?
Okay, how about walking on a string of razors?
Oh, wait, maybe you’ve done this, walked on hot coal,
No…, really? That’s funny because I thought you’ve been there done that.
So down with your accusing finger.
Where were you when I had to choose rogue over all else?
Where were you when I sailed a boat amidst the raging storm?
You’re not the one who had to say no with tears on your eyes and pain in your heart
You don’t know what it feels like to have your dear ones turn away from you, because you have a dream
But I speak now, now with my head held high
I counted not my losses and braved the sore feet, ah this journey,
My hearts satisfaction, and happiness In pursuit of,
To open the doors to my life, my life, and leave them like that, open.
I wake up every day; let it thunder, lightning on my front porch, lights out; but the smile on my face knows not how to fade,
Meaning has been bestowed upon my life by an angel from above,
They misconstrued facts while I tried to find my path now they clog at my door, favor seeking
But I cry.
I cry when I look back, at how hard it was,
When I had to go against the cosmos,
When all I needed, to know I will survive, was to see another day,
When I wondered whether to take the right or the left foot first
Don’t take the risk if you don’t want to, you probably lack the guts,
Going against the norm isn’t for all and sundry,
It’s for those who can see the string of razors ahead as the only path,
It’s for those who clench as they pass through hot coal,
It’s for those, whose sweat pours like a waterfall, when they walk on a rope,
Heroes are being made here, so shush! look at them soar,
And down with your accusing finger.