God Is That Ogre Poem by Thabani Khumalo

I sometimes sit alone
to ruminate all about my life,
I thoroughly question myself on how to live it,
yes I do, I question myself on how to live it.
I'm cognizant of the declining factor phenomenon:
I've been drilled with technical circumspection
on hating myself and I've ensured
the flaw to be a success by applying
warranted energy for its nourishment.
Every time I attempt a recovery of my broken life -
the life that was extorted by invisible giants,
the giants that live among us,
I feel a massive blow that attenuate my spine
and render me sick to the centre of the belly.

Surely our eyes are buttons sewn onto our faces
to decorate them because they are all
blind of sight by night and too sensitive to sunlight by day.
In all my difficult thinking, I end up at this, that
Surely God is that ogre that chows people from the nerves.