I Hang. Poem by David Kinyanjui
I Hang.
I always hang on the wall,
Where I am looked at, by all.
You will find me in a house or maybe in a hall.
From there, I am always expected to make a certain call.
My two hands have to be always on the move.
They try to catch up with each other, they are in a familiar groove.
I am never an exception to do wrong.
And if I am, especially for too long,
I am left alone.
Because my hands refuse to go on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 12:24:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
