Mamelodi

THERE IS A CONCEALED PLACE WHERE I HEAR ME GOD.
IT SURE IS LYING SOMEWHERE ON THE GARDENS’ CHUFF
JUST METERS YONDA OF A ZEBRA LINED ROAD
WHERE, ALONE, I WALK IN NO HASTED HUFF.

THEY SEE ME STRUT THOUGH I CAN’T AFFORD,
EVEN THOUGH I’M SURVIVING, I PROVE REAL TOUGH
CUZ I WALK ALONE, ON THE PAVEMENT NIGHTLY – COLD.
IN THE NIGHT, I SHALL FEAR NOT ROUGH.

BUT POVERTY IS DEVILING AND SPURS NO ROD
AND BATTERS ME WITH A TRASH SO ROUGH
THAT I TOLD MY GOD, ‘I’LL HIT THE ROAD
AND QUIT THE SHAME THAT’S MADE ME HUFF.’

by Thabani Khumalo

Other poems of KHUMALO (309)

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