The Black Box Poem by Sicelo Sithole

The Black Box



Finally I am here
There is no room to breath or anyone for your thoughts to hear
The floor is wet, the drinking water is too hot for ‘humans’ to drink
This is definitely not a place to find peace, but a black box to think
Of all the right and wrong reasons
Of every wages of thoughts you have spent, in the dark days and seasons

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Sicelo Sithole

Sicelo Sithole

Durban, South Africa
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