The Ungrateful

You are futile, fruitless disgrace,A good for nothing child of grace,You’ve ashamed my lineage,I am no longer respected at my age,Just like your mother, you are thick.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

You are futile, fruitless disgrace,
A good for nothing child of grace,
You’ve ashamed my lineage,
I am no longer respected at my age,
Just like your mother, you are thick.

A disgrace he thinks,
‘Thank you Papa’ for your understanding,
You can do better than this,
If only you understood people’s temperaments,
Furthermore the disparity in IQ impairments.

My money, my wealth,
All I have invested in you,
How dare you proffer no thank you?
You eat, drink and feed gluttonously
You are a hyena

Your money your wealth
All for our own good health,
Never knew what the future,
Had in store for a desolate like me,
Off I go but never to return.

Out of mind is out of sight daughter of evil,
Charged as water and fire to nurture you,
Biting the finger and breast that fed you,
Not even a shred of gratitude expression,
To appease the tolerant prolific producers.

A burden he thinks I am, a docile,
Dad I wish I knew I was such an idiot,
Unable to count my fingers even a dot,
At conception I would have said no....
Dad,  Mum thank you for poor invention.

My father’s lineage, all bright and smarter,
their fertile fruitful future much brighter,
My lineage not the course, probably your mother’s,
From Uwimana to Uwitonze then Kalisa,
all mentally bankrupt,
Disappear, disappear, and forever go.


Off I go with one accord, but never to return,
To an ungratefully father who thinks everyone is similar,
Dad, mum I go to a land of plenty: milk and honey,
No pain no stress only peace, a peaceful land for an idiot like me,
Off and off I go but never to return.

Ends