Charles Jagongo Ogola
Praise me not.
Here they come, in low tones,
Eagle eyed, prey in hearts, concealed
He is our son, bring him up! Only ram for our ewes.
The ‘Our Son, oblivious, in innocence
Dance in a tune, made of them, in them not
Goodies gone, in hearts, they laugh in mirth
Praise me not, the ‘Our son ‘
Pitied against our other sons
In anxiety waited for a cast dice,
To his home coming was non, in high tones sang
One other son, crown assumed!
Curse me, praise me not, myself I'm captain.
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