Dear Mother
We were born with fortunes for the future, that
were as gold, as precious as the new born's
laughter, never stop reminding us.

Dear white world
You have turned us into hyenas who laugh in the
dark, for our hearts beat at the deepest dungeons
but she reminds us to remain lit as million burning
candles, burning at the hills of whirling wind, that
cries for our souls.

Dear black world
Who will stop what can't be seen but can be felt,
heard with a disbelieve ear. Who will tell of tomorrow
and the scares of our struggle for humanity, when
the elders have resign themselves to a slumber of a
rainbow dream, that comes but never seem to arrive,
only the mere currency of it's rumour has arrested
the essence of reality, the remembrance of how we
been catching fire since the birth of this country.

Dear black child
There's a world where reality as perceived is
formless, ever shifting but in our world, in our
lives as blacks reality is static, we are born and
soon die on the state of rigid, of constant pain
but she reminds you, of your power to break the
cycle, black child she looks to you for a tomorrow,
for meaning to define reality anew.

|Suss KaMzibeni|

by Black Consciousness Poetry BCP

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