In a world of similar faces,
I came across one.
This black-eyed Mary,
Amazed me unbelievably,
With her special style.
Like a woman who once loved me,
('Oh! my dearest Mary!
Where is that love you once gave me so graciously free?
For you are a woman who once loved me')
She means so much to me,
Especially when she smiles in class.
All times she invokes the credentials of humanity,
Simply by exposing her dimples,
Making the pharmacology teacher,
Making the Genetics teacher,
Gamble and tumble on the table.
What is her colour?
Is it the pigmentation of her skin?
Or the colour of her heart?
Whichever the Gitonga generation is...
Her dimples speak it all.
And so today I search...
I search to find some love in her eyes.
I search for the hope to keep the will.
For even though I breathe, not necessarily do I live,
Till she loves me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem