Am just a Village boy,
Fresh from the gossip-laden cuddles of evening breeze,
I know of people, everyone in the neighbourhood in fact,
Just let me be, Am just a Village boy.
Since I came, my breath has never been fresh,
The spices you pour in the soup make a haven in my mouth,
And makes a sour scent each sunrise,
I cant pass that hard stick with fur on my once milk white teeth,
Let me be, Am just a Village boy.
You have no pot, neither a fire place,
You cook on a blue pot with a hissing flame,
On it another hissing replica of a broken pot.
You don't greet people when we go out,
They neither have interest in us,
Only stares at my clothes, the best back home,
I am used to a life of happy greetings, with accompanying chuckles,
Where everyone is a neighbour, and I know them by name.
Let me be, Am just a Village boy.
Whenever we are seated, you are on your phone,
To me, it is a gadget to call friends and family,
When an urgent matter arises; pleasantries are urgent too.
But yours is literally your second heart beat,
The other day you misplaced it, well,
You could have overturned the sky if you could.
Let me be, Am just a Village boy.
Your husband invited me to a soccer game,
I went to my room, and came out in shorts,
My eyes as hungry as my feet for the fun of the ball,
Only to find you staring at the screen turned green,
With cheers I couldn't locate their source,
How could I play, without a ball???
How could I trust buttons, more than my legs?
Above all, how could I trust that the minute people on TV would obey me?
Leave me alone, am just a Village boy.
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