In their muscular prime
I met them all
Some became presidents
And some road high horses
But we all did meet
Some forgot the poetry
No meeting is by accident
But I know we did meet
I did not look for you
But you did look for me
Young balls, launching to be heard
In the wild wild east
I thrust no blame at no one
On any of my fellows
Their feel was authentic
Still tied to the cause
Then God descended
Then came independence
Okusuns once on Madiba lamented
I sang about “Fire in Soweto”
You could have come searching
And remembered the ones
Who just added, a voice
To make it all happen.
From Eleena to Kakwali
From Burumba to David
And Oshe, George Sabata and Kapuka
You could not have forgotten
Mine was a little voice
Not echoed in jungle warfare
Pushing out heavy artillery
But I think it really counted
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