We are the bad shepherds that kill sheep, blind to the warning signs as we drill deep.
Searching for priceless minerals, she cried all day as her spirit visited several funerals.
She was searching for me but I didn't die on the same night that she did, I still live. After surviving the struggle together, I lost her during the peaceful times, the beautiful crimes.
We cross paths but never touch, I felt her walking through me, she was a shadow within a shadow that moved me.
I heard her sing as she cried, she looked up into the sky with resentment and wondered if god had lied.... Menzi Buthelezi
YOU ARE READING
We Are Coming!
Poetrywe have suffered for far too long. these are the thoughts of a poverty stricken generation.
