I am a living dead;
Yes a living dead
For the backbone
Of my family is gone.

My eyes are swollen,
Pregnant with raindrops,
My body, embraced by kwashiorkor.
Of what use is life with these anguishes?

I am like a sheet of paper
Pulled and pushed by the zephyr.
My whole-life is higgledy-piggledy,
For weeks my stomach’s been rumbling,
I hardly am able to eat,
For I am chained with paucity!

Many a time I sashay
Like every other man,
But one thing folks
Hardly notice is my deadness-
I am living, yet dead-
I am a dead man walking
Among the living,
Call me the living dead