Boy from Lwakaka and the twenty poems of the living cent

16 at Lwakaka

I reminisce back in then.
I was a kid with no voice.
Smoking weed was the thing.
Left alone with no food.
No father, no mother left for grand mama.
At the streets of Lwakaka.
I became king of marble game at  the age of twelve.
Hustling was the thing.
Because I had no voice I went on stealing.
So that I and Em can get what to eat.
I pray that it never happens again.
Ask Em who witnessed my pain.
16 at Lwakaka

           Joshua madiba