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So many of my kind

Have passed away like

Countless nights before sunrise.

They were full of talents

And dreams.

When they slept, I mean

The last sleep when no one

Bothers to tap them again.

Their talents and dreams

Enriched the soil.

No wonder flowers look,

So colorful and smell nice

When our talents and dreams

Are the nutrients.

Sometimes I lose my breath,

While breathing, my glass

Running low.

I’ve had so many bottles of hope

I’ve drunk countless glasses

Full of hope.

I’m so full of it that it pours

Like a fountain when I talk.

It is the belt to Kilimanjaro‘s peak,

Where someday we would stand

To see 54 nations glowing like


Image credit: Alexi Chivir-ter.

By Elijah Christopher

Elijah Christopher

Elijah Christopher is a journalist at A New Touch Of Africa, is also a creative writer, a poet, and an IT enthusiast. He contributed to the collaborative poem written in celebration of Edwin Morgan Centenary, the first Glasgow poet laureate and Scottish national poet from the University of Glasgow. He loves meeting people and learning about new places, cultures, events, and lifestyles.