what it takes, what i give

I heard i cant write, im just not that kind. heard i can't be deep, my cranium's 6ft high
dont even have a rhyme scheme, amorphous all my lines,
well, i can only see the sky above; i think im in a hole, im so deep, i hear people burn in hell, see, they concieve facially,hence percieve suprficially.
What it takes what i give, abit more than ink, intricate and countless process like fur stands on mink.
I fight all sterotyping me as just another wannabe, with more lines than addidas the three stripe company.
mostly because science and art just dont mix, they claim that the two are extremly mutually exclusive , Well if my math is out of this world and my art out of place, you're welcome to call me the exraterrestrial lyricist, call me an accessory to murder; i know im not guilty but its my pen that bleeds on paper and like the fugees kills you gently.

AM I THE COUNTRY MAN ARE THEY THE COUNTRY

Mishaps miss happenings, who is to blame. With so many hurting in displacement camps, all they think to wield is power and class. Their kids drive around in rovers, while I can’t afford to quench my own hangover. I’m hang over truth and deceit I need to steal just so my family can eat.

Am I the country man, because I respect my flag and the prayer that is my national anthem? (O God of all creation, bless this our land and nation). Are they the country? Yet my vote put them in power, my vote fought for justice ,but my justice wilted by sending me a black rose and bloodshed, bodies burnt beyond recognition, all they said was sorry, so feel free to say fuck the politician

If I was beheaded, I’d still speak, bleed with my tongue like I’m chewing on thorns, call me the new age John, for I baptize and my words make the country hate my line of thought. Half of the country men live in poverty a third of the country controls the wealth, do the math, now that is divide and rule. All of them live in luxury if they went to heaven they won’t be surprised but feel at ease. Yet we fight for them like its our father’s cattle we are protecting from the enemy.

One thing we don’t get to see is that thy enemy is thy neighbour, for thy enemy is me. Not one of them puts a plate on your table, but are proud when you hate, you are able but kill like Cain. Hate me and let me hate you, kill me and let my kin kill you

Am I the country man because the country dictates how I think, just coz of tribal lines, tribal ties that are only stereotyped, Kikuyus love money, so do I aint heard of anybody who is allergic to money. Kenya loves peace, so do I coz I’m Kenyan like him like her like us coz we are all country men and women

Kimathi died out of selfless desire to get rid of the colonial wire, he didn’t die coz he thought death smelt good, he died so we could grow and all I’m asking is that for once they let me be the country coz I voted for them and they be the country MEN