A Walk Down Memory Lane Poem by Yolanda Mbatha

A walk down memory lane leads to screams of agony as I forcefully commemorate past tragedies. Life as a teen could be more difficult- that I know- but it could also be much easier...

The walls of my mind are engraved with the terror that is visible in my eyes, visible in my heart, yet hidden in my words, hidden in my stride- none attempts to look beyond what your tender eye wishes to see...

People talk- inexperienced yet so certain that they know what goes on in the mind of those who know, those who have been, those who are, Tongues poisoned with bitter emotions in favour of the so called victim... The offender is concluded as the offender without reason, without proof, without thought
it's a natural things to do for we humans tend to kill with the tongue and consider the physical assassinators murderers yet we ourselves are as saintly as what lay beyond the clouds of doubt.

I’m no more and yet no less a sinner than you
I’m me and you’re just you… I’m both good and bad, and that only makes me human… difference is, I watch my tongue yet we still assassinators, yes both you and me.