The African Male Tear Poem by David N. Munene

The African male tear is golden
Does not dropp even when eye is swollen
Dries up on mama’s funeral
Hides further as men grow

Research shows it is unhealthy
Not to cry whilst worthy
But that is research’s way
Of darkening the African day

Men of Africa don’t lose the tear
Just cause they darkness fear
Treasured it is and never invoked
Just because the African man is provoked

It does not dropp on foreign soil
And never for aching backs from hard toil
Defeat and failure won’t
Even colonialists couldn’t

Unlike the dew it never falls
And then on many a roof rolls
Even when struck by bullet
Remains pocketed in a sealed wallet

The African male tear has been exported
To male counterparts elsewhere it is reported
They cry when they are happy
And sob tearfully when gloomy

The African man wails
When storms hit as he sails
Yet never his tear drops
Values it than thespians value props

When it finally falls
It only on one cheek rolls
Usually left and never right
For right is the side of light

When the African male tear kisses Earth
It steams out into froth
For its heat ground cannot hold
And when cold it grows on skies mould