Kenneth Umunna Biography

High up the cliff
Where the lowly finds a seat
With comfort on a throne
All made beyond your know
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The heart in us like anvils feel
And tears in us like fountains fill
We fear the world in which we dwell
And wish it drown down in a well
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My beauty is but a gift
Received just like you did
Neither maker nor better am I
But mere and mortal
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Mother most pure
Spotless, meek and devout
An epitome of purity
Carved by the master
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Here we are again
Blood dripping in sweat’s place
Anguish sounding in joy’s place
Loss counting in gain’s place
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