Where are you?
Where are the money?
Are we not those in need?

Are we not the church?
The wind is blowing,
But I can’t get your taste
Days are moving,
I hear you not

Are we not the ones,
The ones making the church?
Then why?

Is it not the right time?
Are the bags over in such a time?

Yes you are happy?
The reggae which was a noise has been stopped.
But then why quiet?

You shed tears
We shed tears
Tears on dry eyes!
Our cheeks cracked?
Are you happy?

Every Sunday,
A day of worship
Worship with celebrations
Celebrations of money
Money from our own pockets

It’s our plea
Plea of the sick
Plea of the hungry
Plea from the orphans
Come to us now
Now, we need you most.

Where is our money?
Money stollen from us,
Then brought to us
One pocket to another!

Are there any brighter day?
When again will we hear you?
In harambees?
In churches?
Yet we are dying now
Whom then will you donate to?
Whom will you lead?

Brighter a day we wish
Our wish taken by winds
Winds of the magical thieves

We wish for a brighter a day!

© Ochieng Kevin engineer-2020