Wonders of Wanda

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening was written by Robert Frost in 1922 and published in a collection titled New Hampshire in 1923. It is said that he wrote it in a sitting of 20 minutes while taking a break from writing a longer poem, New Hampshire. This is testimony to his poetic prowess considering the high level of expertise used. The poem is written in a perfect iambic tetrameter, which many poets cannot do in a single sitting.  The poem: Whose woods these are I think I know His house is in the village though;  He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.  My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.  He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake.  The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.  The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  But I have promises to keep,  And miles to go before I sleep,  And miles to go before I sleep

Welcome to Kenya sir A country where we know no ideologies But in books and exams Welcome to Kenya sir Where parties are formed  Not because of shared ideologies  But shared criminal records  Welcome to Kenya sir A country where people vote Not because they believe in certain ideologies But because they want to save people that killed their brothers Welcome to Kenya sir Where democracy means nothing But what the party owner says.  Again, I say, welcome to Kenya  Sir. 

I want to be a hustler one day So that I can carry money in suitcases  And make people happy  Because money washes hearts I want to be a hustler one day So that I can fataly injure  Those who don't love me But still get away  I want to be a hustler one day  So that my people practice their suffrage  Based on my best quality: being a hustler Nothing more nothing less  I want to be a hustler one day. In fact, hustle so hard   With their bloods and lives I want to be a hustler one day So that only my good is remembered  And my evil is interred with me Unlike what Shakespeare believed I want to be a hustler one day  So that the verses I write Are no more free.  Son of Namakangala,  I want to be a hustler when I grow up. @Wanda the Teacher