Judge Me If You Must !

As I walk through the valley and the shadows of poverty,
I feel the weight of judgment and expectation,
From those who cannot understand the struggle,
Of trying to survive in a world that seems to offer no salvation.

I fear not death, but the harsh words and stares,
Of those who see only weakness in my plight,
Who do not know the battles fought within,
To simply make it through each day and night.

Their understanding is as shallow as a thief’s eulogy,
Their empathy as scarce as a drop in the sea,
For they cannot comprehend the depth of despair,
That grips my soul and refuses to set me free.

They speak of my weaknesses, my failures,
As if they were born from choice,
But they do not see the tears I shed,
Or hear the silent cries of my voice.

They do not know the sleepless nights,
The hunger that gnaws at my gut,
The loneliness that haunts my days,
The pain that refuses to be cut.

They judge me for my lack of success,
For my inability to rise above,
But they do not see the barriers in my way,
The obstacles that push me down and shove.

They say “mara he is weak, mara he went to school passed but now he is failing in life, mara what”,
But they do not see the struggles I face,
The constant battle just to survive,
In a world that offers me no grace.

I try to explain, to make them see,
The darkness that surrounds me,
But their eyes are blind, their ears deaf,
To the cries of a soul longing to be free.

So I walk alone, through the valley of despair,
Through shadows that cling to my every step,
Knowing that in this world of judgment and expectation,
I can find no refuge, no solace, no reprieve.

But still I walk, with head held high,
Knowing that I am stronger than they can see,
For I have faced the worst that life can offer,
And I am still here, still standing, still me.

So judge me if you must, with your eyes of scorn,
But know that I am resilient, I am strong,
And though the valley may be dark and long,
I will walk through it, fearless, proud, and headstrong.

@okelododdychitchats

In Silent Burdens

Shadows of unspoken weight,
Silence strains and worries skate,
A storm stirs deep within the heart,
Too much to bear, it pulls everything apart.

I curse the chains of heavy thought,
Tied to a world that takes but gives not,
Every quiet worry, a cold, biting stone.
Every spark of hope, dimmed and gone.

O, faces bright with pride, so blind,
Turned from waves that drown the mind,
But beneath it all lie pools of despair,
Where empathy drifts, thin as air.

Broken spirits, voices low,
They linger where few dare to go,
With judgment’s chill, like winter’s breath,
Misunderstood, they dance near death.

Let each boy walk his own way through,
Not every step should lead to sorrow
Give him space to breathe, to hope, to dream,
To face his shadows, to stitch his seams.

Lift the burden, hear the plea,
The heart’s so fragile, longing to be free.
In kindness, strength, in softness, still,
Love alone warms the chill.

Together we rise, together we stumble,
From silence to strength, we refuse to crumble,
In the bonds we share, we heal and grow,
With open hearts, let empathy flow.

@okelododdychitchats

We are no longer Babies

It’s 1:58 AM, and Azel is crying. Blood is oozing from my nose, it’s a lot. We’re in the middle of wheat bushes and dry, soft sand along the Bomet-Narok road. Azel has never seen this much blood come from someone’s nose before. A neighbour from the seat beside us heads up to the driver and asks him to help somehow, and he honors the call. A group of ladies and gentlemen from the bus volunteer to offer first aid. I don’t know any of them, except for my five-year-old nephew. But for what you’ve all done, thank you, I truly appreciate each of you and I love you all.

Azel has stopped crying now, though he still looks worried. We’re on our way to Nairobi, and I’m anxious about the second half of this journey. We’re traveling at night ! Kumbavu zangu, mbwa mimi, what was I thinking? I made a mistake.

I had been in the village for Azel. I love this kid, people think he is a rock of my sling. He was graduating from PP2 to Grade One on October 22^nd, two months after his birthday. The number 22 seems to be a blessing for him, so I’ll get him a Gor Mahia jersey with that number on the back. I would’ve initiated him into Manchester United fandom, but I don’t want him stressing over his blood pressure every game!

We’re moving down the hill toward the isolated polytechnic outside Narok Town, near Ntulele, where there’s little but a footbridge, well-made tarmac, and an animal crossing. The place is rich with all kinds of trees, baboons, monkeys, and possibly other wild animals hidden in the bushes. At this hour, it even smells of charcoal. Are they teaching students to make charcoal at night? There are no homes here, just bushes. Multimedia University has got nothing on this polytechnic for natural surroundings!

Wait, I was telling you about Azel’s graduation… He got to school early for practice, and we followed a bit later. I can see him in the crowd, my young, handsome guy with his friend, he is scanning around to find us. He looks tired and weak, probably still worn out from that malaria he’s been fighting. All I want in that moment is to knock that malaria out myself. When he loses hope and starts heading back to the training area, I quickly send a friend to bring him over to where we’re sitting, me, Mum, and my “sisters,” Millie and Mercy.

When he gets to us, I can tell he’s hungry just by the look on his face, so I hand him his favourite combo, tomato crisps and vanilla yogurt. But he gives me a polite, “No, thank you,” which hits me right in the heart. I ask him what he actually wants as he tugs on my arm, pulling me up. Turns out he needs money for his graduation badge, so I cover it and get him some ice cream too, he’d asked for it.

Parents watch the “Holistic Space Academy” pupils perform. “Holistic Space” is Azel’s school, and these kids are talented! The music club is fantastic, truly entertaining… Soon, Azel’s class, PP2, is welcomed by the music band, led by their teacher, Teacher Rose, who organizes them into two neat lines, girls in front, boys at the back, all by height. Brave little souls, each of them, dressed in black and yellow gowns with badges neatly fastened on the left. They perform songs and poems, with one that stands out, “We Are No Longer Babies.” They say goodbye to kindergarten. The school really lives up to its name, they’ve created such a well-rounded environment here. The event is beautiful. Azel is back to his happy, playful self, he gets his certificate, they cut the cake, and then we head home.

Everything’s good at home, Azel’s happy, schools are closed, and he’s officially no longer a baby. Next year, he’ll be in Grade One, and he’ll be traveling to Nairobi soon!

Finally, it’s the big day. Azel’s up just after 5 AM, barely slept, ready to go, even though we’re technically not leaving until 8:45. You’ll understand why I say technically.I get up around 7, and I can already hear him by the front door, singing, “Ninaenda Nairobi.” It’s the little things that make kids happy. We finish preparing, and before we leave, Mum gathers us for a prayer, she prays for the things made with the hand of man to allow us arrive safe. After that moment, we say our goodbyes and leave for the booking office.

But when we arrive, I realize I’ve booked us on the night bus instead of the morning one. Frustration bubbles up, especially with Azel along for the ride, so I call my mum and my sister Stella, Azel’s mum. They both seem okay with us traveling at night, which eases my mind. I call my Okada man, Babgy, and we head back home to wait for the night.

At this point, Azel can’t afford to lose sight of me, he thinks I might pull a fast one and leave him in the village. What keeps his hopes high is the fact that we left his bag at the booking office. My little guy, who’s no longer a baby, is happy, and when he’s in a good mood, he praises everyone around him. He calls me “Ado,” calls Millie “Amillo,” and the best moment comes when he sees our neighbor Ada. He moves closer to her, saying, “Eiii Ada, Jaberrrr,” in his best Luo accent. Hearing this from a kid is just wonderfully fantastic.

The time comes to say goodbye and Azel’s dream of travelling to Nairobi is finally a reality!

@okelododdychitchats

Holy Hypocrisy

Why did I stop going to church? One of the funniest reasons I’ve heard is, “My pastor was crippled and healing cripples. Like, why not heal yourself?” It’s a dark statement, but I get where they’re coming from. Let’s be honest, are these people God’s messengers or money makers in Poverty Pulpits ?

I believe in God, but I have a million questions. My friend and colleague, Evans Asudi challenges me every time we have a discussion about religion and the existence of God, he argues that the design of the universe, nature, and everything in it must have an origin. My question is, is that origin the God of the Christian Bible, Allah of the Muslim Quran, or the supernatural forces in Buddhist texts like the Tripitaka? I’m not saying these religions worship entirely different gods. They argue as if they do, but interestingly, they all seem to agree on the same devil. Crazy, right? Anyway, I believe in God and identify as Christian, but I rarely go to church. I have my reasons !

As a kid, I always questioned my existence, and while that hasn’t changed, I now find myself questioning the origins of religion. Who created it, and what was it really meant to achieve? History shows how religion has been used to create divisions, often for political gain, and it still happens today. Different religions hold varying beliefs, and even within Christianity, denominations clash. Paul even addressed this in Corinthians, questioning why Christians were divided when they were all baptized in Christ’s name. These divisions are often exploited for political purposes, given the strong influence religion has on society and politics.

I was raised in a strict Christian background where questioning the church or its leaders was off-limits. It was considered disrespectful and even thought to bring curses. Looking back, I laugh at how much I used to fear that. But, even as a kid, I could see pastors giving in to “earthly” temptations, sins they were never held accountable for. They seemed untouchable, immune to any form of criticism. Over time, this made me start questioning things more deeply, and now it’s part of why I find it difficult to step inside just any church today.

To make sense of where we are, let’s start with the history of Christianity. It began in the 1st century after Jesus’ death as a Judaic sect with some Hellenistic influences. The Catholic Church claims to be the original, with the first church said to be in Jerusalem. Over time, Christianity branched into several groups like the Church of the East, Oriental Orthodoxy, Eastern Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, Protestantism, and Restorationism.

In its early days, the traditional churches built schools, hospitals, and provided services that genuinely benefited the community. They did this without exploiting their congregants. But as time went on, evangelical churches started popping up what one of my great of all time writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie calls “mushroom churches” in her book “Purple Hibiscus”. I’m not generalizing all evangelical churches, but many sprouted after the colonial period, often without any regulation, and some have become quite problematic.

These churches often target vulnerable people, especially our mothers. With this, sometimes, I tend to believe that the colonialists had a plan, schools for the children, prisons for the fathers, and churches for the mothers. Anyway, that’s just a detour, let’s get back on track…A lot of these churches manipulate their followers, brainwashing them into accepting whatever the pastor says without question while reasoning that questioning will lead to the unthinkable,absurd! When pastors claim that questioning them will lead to whatever, it’s really just a way to manipulate their followers. You don’t fail or fall by speaking up or seeking answers for God’s sake !

Times without number, I’ve also heard pastors glorify poverty, insisting that wealth distances you from God, they say that having money makes you less inclined to pray. These same pastors live in luxury, strikingly paradoxical ! Some even discourage their followers from seeking medical help, claiming that doing so demonstrates a lack of faith in God, despite the Bible stating, “faith without action is dead.” Are they referring to something who’s content they do not understand or did it change overnight ?

It’s ironic how these extreme churches often have the largest followings. And what really frustrates me is the constant fundraising, with no transparency on where the money goes. I’m tired of seeing congregants grow poorer while pastors grow wealthier. Churches should be shaping and speaking up for the community, but many stay silent when it doesn’t affect them…I am just sick and tired of this top tier deception, emotional control, psychological tactics, coercion, gas lighting, name it all! let me take a break! One day, we’ll go deeper into this, especially on how pastors are now called “Daddy” and their wives “Mummy.”

@okelododdychitchats

To Dream, We Must Leave

We stand in the land of our birth,
Where the soil is rich,
Yet dreams suffocate beneath heavy skies,
And hopes lie buried where they mourn.

Here, we are born with hands wide open,
Grasping air, reaching for a future yet to be revealed.
But the streets tell us stories of hunger,
Of shackled lives and promises unfulfilled.

We grow, we study, we strive in vain,
Taught to believe that success is near,
Yet the doorways close, and the silence whispers,
“You have no room to dream here.”

So we turn our eyes toward the seas,
To lands where the stars seem to shine.
We leave in desperation, hearts heavy with hope,
Chasing a life that might finally be mine.

But in the hands of strangers, we are trapped,
Told lies of riches, and work that promised success,
Only to find chains where freedom was denied,
And shadows where truth reveals.

Our sisters sold into prostitution, our brothers enslaved,
In distant lands where our names are lost,
The price of our dreams is paid in pain,
And no one speaks of the cost.

Oh, Africa, land of forgotten wealth,
Your soil rich, your people poor,
Why do you allow your children to lose their way?
Why must we leave to dream once more?

If only self-interest could fade,
If justice could rise from the dirt,
Perhaps then we’d stand unshackled,
And know what it is to dream without hurt.

But until then, we flee, we fight,
Crossing borders, losing sight,
Of who we are, of where we’re from,
For in our lands, we cannot dream as one.

Why We Must Reclaim Our Right to Dream at Home

Dreaming is a universal right, it is for everyone, not just a select few. Dreaming allows us to look ahead to better futures, pursue opportunities, and shape our lives. Yet, for many Africans, dreaming feels like a distant privilege. Whether educated or not, skilled or unskilled, the struggle for a better life remains an unstoppable force. For most, the only option to escape this harsh reality is leaving home in search of greener pastures abroad, whether legally or illegally.

But these journeys are often treacherous. Promises of good jobs and better lives abroad lead many into the traps of human trafficking and exploitation, Sad! The stories are painfully familiar, young men and women, driven by desperation, leave their homes only to find themselves trapped in modern-day slavery. Some are forced into labour without pay, others into prostitution. They lose not only their freedom but also their identities, their dignity! Having been deceived into believing that life outside Africa holds the answers they seek.

The tragedy is that these journeys take their origin from a single painful truth, many African countries don’t allow their citizens the freedom to dream at home. In a continent so rich in natural resources, oil, diamonds, gold, copper, and more. This reality is hard to reconcile. But the wealth of Africa is often mismanaged or hoarded by a select few, leaving the majority to struggle. Corruption, poor governance, and self-interest have prevented this wealth from translating into opportunities for ordinary people. Instead of developing industries that can employ millions, or investing in systems that allow citizens to thrive, resources are drained to feed the desires of a few. And so, we are forced to seek out dreams elsewhere, in lands that promise more but often deliver less.

Why must we leave to dream? Why can’t we fulfil our ambitions at home? The answer lies in the conditions that force so many to flee. Opportunities are scarce, infrastructure is weak, and education systems, while improving, often fall short in equipping young people with the skills they need to compete in a global economy, take a look at what the 8.4.4 education system in Kenya achieved and compare it to what the Competency-Based Curriculum (CBC) is doing now. Both systems have well-designed structures, but due to poor implementation, they will for certain fail to equip students with the skills needed for real-life success. Those who do succeed in gaining education or skills often find there are no jobs to match their qualifications. And while entrepreneurship is an option for some, it is often hampered by a lack of access to capital, poor infrastructure, and overly complicated regulations.

These challenges create a vicious cycle where leaving becomes the only viable option. But leaving doesn’t always lead to the freedom or success that many envision. Human trafficking has become one of the most dangerous industries preying on vulnerable Africans. Unscrupulous agents lure people with promises of high-paying jobs abroad, only to subject them to brutal conditions once they arrive. Men, women, and children are often forced into hard labour or sold into sexual exploitation, trapped far from home and without the means to escape. They either do it, or they pay for it with their lives! These stories project an image of a wider problem, a continent whose potential is stifled, whose children are forced to seek safety, success, and dignity far away.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. Africa can become a place where dreams are born and fulfilled. It begins with us demanding better governance and believing in our potential. For too long, corruption and manipulation has drained the lifeblood of African countries, siphoning off billions that could be used to create jobs, build schools, improve healthcare, and support industries that generate wealth for the people. Good governance where leaders are accountable and resources are managed responsibly can create environments where opportunities flourish. With transparent systems in place, we can begin to build the infrastructure that allows businesses to grow and employ people, reducing the need for migration in search of work.

Education is another crucial piece of the puzzle. For Africa to truly grow and develop, we must invest in quality, accessible education. Young people need not only academic skills but also practical, vocational training that allows them to build sustainable livelihoods. Entrepreneurship, too, should be nurtured. Africa is brimming with untapped talent and creativity. With better access to finance, mentorship, and infrastructure, local businesses can thrive, creating jobs and lifting communities out of poverty.

We also need to protect those who seek opportunities abroad. Migration should be a choice, not a necessity. African governments must work with international organizations to create safer, legal pathways for those who wish to work in other countries. Stronger labour protections and better enforcement of anti-trafficking laws can prevent many from falling into the traps of exploitation. But most importantly, we need to build systems that make staying home a viable option so that Africans no longer feel the need to leave in order to live their dreams.

Africa’s wealth should be used for the benefit of its people. For too long, multinational corporations have extracted resources from the continent without giving back to local communities. If African governments prioritize local ownership and control of resources, they can reinvest profits into vital sectors like infrastructure, education, and healthcare. This, in turn, creates a foundation for long-term development. When managed responsibly, Africa’s natural wealth can lift millions out of poverty, turning our vast resources into a force for good.

We also need to empower communities through civic education. People need to understand their rights and hold leaders accountable. An informed and active citizenry can demand better services, transparency, and the creation of real opportunities for all. Civic engagement helps ensure that governments prioritize the needs of their people over their own self-interests.

The story of Africa is not one of despair. It is one of potential of a continent that has everything it needs to make significant progress, but hasn’t yet realized its full potential. By tackling the root causes of migration, human trafficking, and exploitation, we can create a future where Africans can dream and build fulfilling lives at home. This is not just a possibility, it is a matter of urgency.

We must reclaim our right to dream, and we must do so on African soil. Only then will we see a future where migration is no longer a necessity but a choice. Only then will we stop the tragic stories of exploitation that have plagued our communities for far too long. Africa is rich, not just in minerals, but in the brilliance of its people. It is time for that brilliance to shine here, where it belongs. To do that, we must invest in our people, build our institutions, and ensure that every African has the chance to dream, right at home.

@okelododdychitchats

You Don’t Care !

Wrong is only wrong
When it doesn’t work for you.
Walk with me,
Remember Gabriel Oguda?
Where did he go?
He doesn’t speak against the government anymore.
No more clever words, no more truth on X.
What happened?

I hear they want to sell our airport,
They’ve just transitioned NHIF into SHIF, I got that depressing message!
They Pass bills quietly, now they’re law.
And suddenly, they distract us with Gachagua’s impeachment.
But we aren’t fools, we see the game.

Where was public participation on the finance bill?
On the Adani deal, SHIF, housing levy?
The things that actually affect us!
Gachagua is tribal, yes,
But he’s just like the rest of you !
A puppet, a decoration.
Send him home, but don’t stop there, take Ruto with him.

I wish you, in the National Assembly,
Cared about the people, not just your wallets.
Now you’re playing games,
Asking for public participation on things that don’t matter to us.
Pretending to care.

Just like tissue paper, you use us, then throw us away.
We have Mastered your game !
We know when Gachagua falls,
You’ll say, “It was your choice, your voice!”
But we know, you don’t really care.

And even if Sifuna claims politicians are different,
I tend to think you’re all the same !
Because why did you all go silent when Raila joined hands with Ruto?
The once “bad” Ruto, the one you called corrupt,
Suddenly turned good overnight !
Because now it works for you! Huh ?

But none of you actually care.

@okelododdychitchats

Me, Not Them

Why blame a group for one’s mistake?
Why talk of fairness, then defend the flip side?
We need to see each person’s truth,
Not punish many for the fault of one.

When will we learn we’re not the same?
Don’t make others carry the blame.
We’re all unique, with paths we choose,
It’s unfair when innocent people lose.

Stop seeing groups, start seeing hearts,
That’s where understanding truly starts.
No one deserves another’s shame,
Each person should answer for their own slip-up.

If someone’s wrong, they should pay,
But don’t let others stand in the way.
We’re not a crowd, just many souls,
With different dreams and different goals.

Let’s be kind, let’s be fair,
Look at each person as an individual.
Don’t group us all with one mistake,
We’re not the same !

We’re all more than what others do,
So treat each person as someone new.
When we do, we’ll start to see,
A world that’s fair and truly free.

*********

Why do people blame entire groups for what one person does? It’s unfair to speak of double standards while defending or justifying a behaviour (My take). We need to stop grouping people by gender, culture, or appearance and start seeing them as individuals. If I’ve done something wrong or if I keep making mistakes, brand me and blame me all you want, but don’t blame all men/women, my community, or my friends. It’s me, not them.

Painting everyone with the same brush denies the unique truth of each person. We shouldn’t be defined by someone else’s mistakes just because we have something in common…When will we learn that everyone walks their own path? No one deserves to be judged based on what others have done.

Holding oneself accountable is a vital piece. It’s unjust to make an entire group suffer for what one person did. True justice means looking at each individual, seeing them for who they are, and holding them responsible for their choices, not blaming everyone who looks or lives like them.

We should all strive to treat each other with fairness, kindness, and understanding. There is no “them” and “us, “only people, each with their own story. If we can learn to see individuals clearly, we can make the world a better, more peaceful place.

In the end, treating others with empathy and reason is how we grow as a society. When we stop blaming groups and start focusing on individuals, we create room for understanding and change. Only then can we truly move toward peace and fairness for all.

@okelododdychitchats

If I Fail to Wake Up Tomorrow

If I fail to wake up tomorrow,
Know that I fought with all my might
Against the demons that plagued my mind
I battled through the darkness
But in the end, I couldn’t find the light
My soul was weary, my heart was tired
And I found solace in stepping into eternity,

If I don’t wake up tomorrow,
Tell my friends I’ll miss them dearly
The laughter, the memories, the tears we shared
Will forever be carved in my silent whispers lost in time
I hope they find peace in knowing
That I am finally free from the pain
That haunted me every waking moment
I’ll be watching over them from above

If I fail to wake up tomorrow,
Promise me you’ll take care of yourself
Don’t dwell on what could have been
Live your life to the fullest, cling to the warmth of joy
That I could never fully appreciate
Treasure like gold every sunrise, every sunset
And know that I am always with you
In spirit, in memory, in love

If I don’t wake up tomorrow,
Tell the world my story
Let my struggles be a lesson
That mental health is not a joke
That a smile can hide a world of hurt
And that reaching out for help
Is not a sign of weakness, but of strength
Break the stigma, break the silence

If I fail to wake up tomorrow,
Know that I am at peace
No longer shackled by my fears
No longer drowning in my tears
I am free to soar amongst the stars
To dance in the moonlight, to bask in the sun
I am finally whole, finally content
In the arms of endless rest.

Let my legacy be one of love
Of kindness, of compassion
And may my journey to the beyond bring awareness
To the struggles we all face
So if I fail to wake up tomorrow
Know that I am at peace
And that I will always be watching over you
From the heavens above.

@okelododdychitchats

Grip of Greed

I love my country,
Its colours and borders are chiseled deep into my dark skin,
My blood flows red, black, white, and green,
I am a proud one,
Two Kenyan bands tied firmly around my left hand,
I love Kenya, but I despise how it is led.

I don’t hate the government, no,
I hate the hands that twist its helm,
Hands that do not care,
Or do they?
Critic them, and you’ll vanish,
Stay silent, and they’ll rob you blind.
Either way, their touch is venom,
Public funds dissolve like mist in their touch,
Gone without a trace,
And we are left with shadows.

I abhor those who think power belongs to their kin,
Simply because a tribesman sits at the table,
A tribesman who feeds only his belly,
While we starve on promises.
What is this thing called tribe, anyway?
I say shut it!
I am Luo,
And I love my kikuyu babes, free from the stains of prejudice
Judge the soul, not the community !

But even with sober judgement,
Everything goes gray,
A dull, endless gray,
Because of one thing!
Poor governance.

I blame the government,
Not for its existence,
But for its grip of greed,
For the hunger that devours our future whole.

@okelododdychitchats

Just Look at her !

Look at how good-looking she is
A vision of beauty, a sight to behold
Her melanin is well spread in her skin
A rich, deep tone that shines like gold

Her nails are perfectly straight
A subtle detail that adds to her charm
She takes care of herself, that much is clear
Every part of her exudes grace and calm

Her skin shines like a beacon of light
Radiant and smooth, like silk it gleams
A labor of love, a gift from above
She treats it like a treasure, in her dreams

Her choice of lipstick is flawless
A shade that complements her every smile
Kissable and inviting, it draws you in
A temptation that’s impossible to defile

Her figure is a work of art
Curves that flow like a gentle stream
Aesthetically pleasing, perfectly crafted
By a maker who knew just the right scheme

She is my crush, my sulwe
I can’t help but long for her
I want her to be mine, to hold her close
To cherish her beauty, to never erase

I don’t want this to end in heartbreak
I want our love to blossom and grow
To see her smile, to make her happy
To cherish her always, to let our love flow

For who would want to waste such beauty
On pain and sorrow, on tears and strife
I want her by my side, forevermore
To walk together in this beautiful life

So look at how good-looking she is
And see the love that shines in her eyes
I am captivated, I am enchanted
By this girl who has captured my skies

I want her to be mine peacefully forever
To hold her hand, to never let go
To be her rock, her safe haven
To love her endlessly, that much I know

For she is my type of girl
The one who makes my heart sing
The one who completes me, who makes me whole
My love for her will forever cling

So let’s cherish this beauty, this love divine
And let’s make a promise to never let go
For she is the one I’ve been searching for
The one who makes my heart aglow.

Just look at her !

@okelododdychitchats