The sun smiles at the traders in the market
Hon hoots, bell rings
Traders shouting to whosoever cares to listen
Everyone as busy as bee
All is well
Except for the deafening noise from a corner
Loud and rumbling as a thunder
Ole! Ole!! Ole!!!
People mobbed wearing a look of fire
Holding bottles, sticks
As they stare at the hungry kid
In search if a saviour
Running as fast as deer
Could he elude this angry mob
He bumps a huge stick
And watched as he was lynched
Muttering innocent words
As jesus did on the cross
In fury, no one heard his voice
Was tyre on his neck an honour?
Or a punishment for his quest to fight hunger.