Passing Days Poem by Sinaso Pamela Mxakaza

Birds flew away
skies grew dark
Suns set
lonely hearts beat
to sad thoughts
Eyes cradle the winter rain
I had hopes of a simple life
The world is grieving
with bloodstains tattooed
along its paths in the ghettos
You have heard its youths
rebel with slams to echo
the slums we grew up in
No mother wants to carry
a child in a palace for nine months
But give birth to a hindered spirit
begging on knees
in the broken down alleys
of heroes we went to war
and came back as funeral songs
that illuminated our history
If today our lives are a struggle
what hope does the future hold
we have ignited our children
like veld fires who burn
our lands from the hands
of slavery
when its skeletons now
rest in it
the sky sings sorrows
down our spines
our tomorrows
are baby marrows
frozen in time
trying to grab back
our sweet breaths
from the hands of time
lungs exhausted in smokes
bodies hang and littered
with wounds
like drilled mines
our mothers hanged us
to dry from the tears they cried
in the present leaning
to coming years
like they did laundry
over fences touching
where the grass was greener
they gave us wings
when our feet failed
my skin cries
that the sun
scribed psalms
to cloth my bones
like a native man's bible
the winds have only just
began to echo my name
seeking shelter when they
leave trees
bending
birds fly away
skies draw dark
suns