The Journey Poem by refilwe ranape

Conventional, that’s how my being has been;
Abuzz in the township, another girl next door;
Envious childhood maybe, distinctive inner part though;
Mind and heart fed with goodness!
Grand values to uphold, it was…. it’s up to me;
The journey, who's one is it?
My journey, their journey, our journey;

How prickly the mind, how strong the heart, they say;
Better, no! Different yes!
I saw it all, I lived it all!
The good, the bad, the joy and sorrow;
The wars, brutality, the laughter, the cries;
Sounds of gun fire, music to my ears, way of life;
To the eventual tranquility;
Not an easy one, my journey;

She’s grown up, folks murmured;
Bad temptations of the world, some good, but bad;
Resistance! My only arsenal was my inner self;
Uniquely it stood; only the closest could touch it;
Give me a paper and pen, so i can write about my life and sin;
No paper, no pen, so Judge me not;
The journey not over yet, my journey;