DAY-DREAM by George Kiwanuka

The ghosts of my lost dead children call out to me…every now and then 
These ghost children desire to play 
Their lively playful chuckles frozen in time…
Oblivious of today’s concerns 

Trapped in the past joys of their days, 
They know and care not that in these cloudy murky days, 
Endless toil is the natural accompaniment to breath 
And that a minute lost in the sunny embrace of nostalgia is a whole handful of life-giving peanuts lost!

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