The Two Ticks Poem by Victor Rotich

The two ticks.
The fat, black flashy tick,
ever smiling at me,
and the brown, tall, round-eyed tick,
perched,
deep, deep inside my ear.

The two ticks,
pitiless, have decided to feast on me,
day and night, all night!
determined, to bring me to my knee,
They do it with euphoria,
as a female baby calf,
full of pride.
Thumbing chests, spiteful,
boasting, tossing expensive wine,
showing the world, their cheap wealth.

The two ticks,
cheers on, thunderously,
as poverty tears my ribs,
with its sharp, poisoned arrows.
I make their day,
I tickle them, crack their ribs,
when am drained of ideas, money
money to buy tawet.
They beam with admiration,
grinning, patting their smelly backs,
when am hopeless, weak,
lying down, sick! !

But, the two ticks,
are my friends, my people, my blood.
I shelter them during the flood,
I feed them, when famine strikes.
Am always there for them, in adversity
lending a hand, in times of need and calamity.

The two ticks,
spits on my face, thankless,
like a teenage donkey,
in the hands of a new master.
They have kicked at my testicles,
and broke my ribs.
They have turned against me.
They have even invited their friends,
to wage war against me.

Mooo! Mooo! Mooo!
Who will hear my painful cry?
The desolate midnight cry.
Who will come to my rescue?
From the mischief of these ticks.
They are sucking me dry.
They want my milk too!