He is always there
Sleeping like a mad man
Walking in a wacko's gait
And opening the bus gate
You'll think he owns the terminus
Flexing and showcasing his staminas
He wears a monstrous face
Never smiling, at times loudly laughing
But today he went too far
Frightening a man older than Pa
Shoving and obstructing a young woman
Demanding more than earned
Threatening the Hell out of his colleague
Insulting the Chinese in the local lingo
Alighting from the recklessly
Like a shrug skunk from a hive
Heard someone call him Ndicho
He who behaves as randomly as a weasel
Think his case is too mental
That not even Mathari can contain
But the law that should his madness detain
Stands as an onlooker staring derision
This one 'wacko' will terrorise this terminus forever
Oh! But then there is death...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem