GEORGE THE TIRED POET

  📷 istock Photos. (Why Men Cry) I cried for love, For the women who broke my heart Because I failed to keep them happy.  I cried for my mother, For giving me birth, I cried for my aunt,  For showing me life, A life you live when you lose a loved one. Aunt Rest In Eternal Freedom.  I cried for Poets, Poets who can't write about change. I cried for Slam poets, Poets who write poems to create change. I cried for other poets, Poets who write poems that choke them. I cried for my Future Wife, Because she will birth me children,  Children who will suffer paying debts they didn't eat their money. I cried for my unborn children,  Because their mother  Will birth them without a warning of how hard Uganda is. I cried for Ugandans, Ugandans in Uganda and Those in Abu Dhabi,  China, Russia and South Africa.  I cried for Ugandans, Ugandans in debt, Ugandans who are living but dead, Dead because they can't afford a meal. I cried for students,...

📷 Meya Ukasha (Why Men Cry) To be a man, Kila mtu anadhani hauumi, When they see you cry, They think it is a lie- Because you are a man. You must not show that you are hurt, Because Wanaume hawajui maumivu ni nini,  They have never known how labour pain is- For that is what real pain is. To be a man, You are an abuser when you beat a woman, When she beats you- she's emancipating. She's defending herself from the 'beasts' men are. Woman can seduce you and it is normal,  When you seduce a woman, You are a rapist- A man with no dignity. In fact you are just a shameless brat with no brains.  To be a man, You cry or you don't cry, You are still a liar, you lie. You lie even when you are about to die, To die from the pain you can't comply. To be a man, You have to feel shame for what happened to you,  You have to be a criminal when you are a victim, You will be charged for victimizing a woman who made you victim. That's why I am here talking to men, W...

📷 Cool Simon Photography.  Model : George The Tired Poet  (My Liberation Verses). Rest In Peace Papa, I am sorry I messed up,  But I have come here  To tell you a story. Yesterday, a whiteman came my way. He said he was from Norway. He asked me dozens of Stupid Questions, Because he found me sad, He said, "Why is every Ugandan wearing a long face?". I told him, "there is nothing to smile about. Come and take a walk with me". Stupid as he was, he came and I took him everywhere.  I took him to the streets, showed him the 'street kids' As the world calls them. I asked him, "Is there any thing to smile about?". He said, No. I took him to the hospital, Showed him every unit, I again asked him, "Is there any thing to smile about?" He said, "No". I took him around the roads, And asked him, "Is there anything to smile about?" The fool said No. Daddy,  I am sorry.  I took him home. I showed him Mom and my little si...

📷 Courtesy Photo.  In the land of Karamoja, where winds whisper tales, A region of strength, where resilience prevails. Its people, warriors of pride and grace, Longing for justice in their sacred space. Karamojong, their spirit unyielding, Amidst the hardships, their hearts keep beating. For too long, their cries have been unheard, It's time to unite and spread the word. Karamoja, a land of struggle and strife, Where hunger pierces the fabric of life. Yet amidst despair, hope lingers on, From dusk till dawn, till a brighter morn. Let us gather the fragments of their dreams, Stitch them together like rivers and streams, To nourish their souls with compassion's embrace, And restore the dignity of Karamojong race. Together, let's shout from the mountaintops high, "Karamoja Lives Matter!" in the endless sky. Let love and justice be our guiding light, To uplift Karamoja, to make things right. For the people of Karamoja, let's make a stand, Extend a lo...