Spirit like a little bird,
wings clipped, buoyancy crushed,
deflated, lost energy,
no desire for flight,
no joy in fight,
spirit crushed
The crocodile built
a bulwark of books
between her and
the reality
outside…
Glitter represents sunlight
and fairy dust – glitter
makes me fly
I carry the glitter
in my bag,
smuggled all contraband
- prohibited by the Boss -
on board - stashed
everything away –
at my feet!
Every game has rules, the
rule of today: Don’t
interfere, don’t
prescribe, shut
up and
die.
I die inside.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hoe meer ek lees, hoe dieper kyk ek in, verby die glitter en die klippe... dis alles net manifestasies van wat is binne-in.... Jy, Grote Griet, is die lappop op die ashoop.... die rubbish kan nie sonder jou lewe nie.