16 At Lwakaka Poem by joshua madiba

I reminisce back in then.
I was a kid with no voice.
Smoking weed was the thing.
Left alone with no food.
No father, No mother left for grand mama.
At the streets of Lwakaka.
I became king of marble game at the age of 12.
Hurstling was the thing.
Because i had no voice i went on stealing.
So that I and Em can get what to eat.
I pray that i never steal again.
16 at Lwakaka.
When the society was against me.
Ask Em who witnessed my pain.
16 at Lwakaka