The Woods Of The New Light Poem by Valerian Mwenda

It's been utterly impossible,
For my youthful heart to find peace,
This sprouts from
My conspicuous inability,
To unequivocally answer my inquisitive mind,
Even when at the very best,
I've offered frail, poor excuses as answers,
The result is a sorry, unfortunate story,
I'm not comfortable in this planet anymore,
Though the peak of prosperity
Embraces my eyes,
For towers race skyward,
In a competitive fashion,
Meagerly clad inhabitants roam the streets,
In exercise of love and freedom,
The fact that others accord them intimacy,
To them is glory,
But to me is sadness,
I don't feel comfortable under the sun anymore,
Though there's nothing I lack,
Everything lacks me,
And that's not the same thing,
And peace, yes, there's peace,
But uneasy peace,
For the primal instincts of humans,
Can never be caged by prosperity,
Or the invigoration of the posterity,
Non-uniform development is no development,
For strife and indigence still rage on,
In an unexplained courtship,
In the domicile of humans,
I don't feel comfortable in the world anymore!