Their only son, they named him
Austin, did they knew what it meant?
Or it popped out as just a word
Born at home, but spent the night in
No doctor was able to describe the type of baby
boy he was, ‘He is a big baby type’ they said.
His cry was of a curb. His heart was
Boilled in an african pot, of passion,
A black ocean, flowing in his veins.
Grew up as an introvert,
thoughtful but shy, dark coloured and short,
Hated by none, but inspired by many.
Fallen many times but never
Lost hope, he, an upcoming guru of innovation,
The brains behind many invantions,
And short stories.
Developing into a professional
mechatronics and ICT specialist.
He, the hope and dream of a truck driver.