A Time To Make Peace With Myself Poem by Sicelo Sithole

Harvesting the past years of tears I reap the days of sorrow and years of self blame
My chances combining to my own world and true self, all the pain binding within a thought senseless
Many of my visions and dreams have faded, but the truth about me is still not born
The body, mind, soul and spirit is torn, but the blood and pride is forever shining
This is thus a time to make peace with myself; a true reason of being
A young boy who has seen anguish at a tender age, a common man without love, hate or a thing