How can they?
Their souls do not wander,
They have everything in their palms,
They have the best support and care,
Let alone the wealth.

What will they write?
What they will bleed isn’t pride and offence to the abandoned?
Rather than passion and love,
What exercises their minds besides happiness and education?
They long for nothing but their future.
Unlike a black African child.

Happy children aren’t secreted,
Happy children gets possible integrity,
Their parents plays and faces the music,
Their lives are not bombarded with lies and betrayals,
Happy children would never become writers.