I may not be able to give you gold,

For my hands have now grown old,

They fail in strength,

Remaining is my last breath,

But let me give you wisdom and knowledge,

Which even at your edge, shall be a hedge.


Let my words keep you strong,

So that you may overcome everything wrong,

They shall always be a light,

For better for worse, you shall be right.


When difficulties come to your life in a load,

Stronger and tighter you must hold,

And in the burden of your agony,

Shall emerge a son of victory.


Even when I am gone,

My shell remaining like a cone,

Lay a foundation on top,

And in darkness and trials, you shall hop.


Never shall you lack,

And you will always remain in luck,

Till the day of your last breath,

When you shall join your forefathers in death.


©Wanjiku Gaitho


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