Our skin of gold, sham
shamans claim our skin
bleeds Wealth, Gospel to
our kith and kin who suffer
from poverty of thought.
Through their hungry eyes.
We are a golden goose who lay
limps and arms, where do
we run to when our own family
have become hosts who prey
on our dying lamp.
we no longer glow in the dark
anymore, the burning fires in
our eyes have been smothered
by showers of tears, we no longer
fear the sun cause we now know
the night have many terrors and
Terrors have many of our nights.
|Suss KaMzibeni|
An insightful portrayal of vulnerable African albinos who are on the razor edge of danger. At the behest of witchdoctors, they're hunted for their body part, which are used as ingredients for rituals sacrifices. Thanks for the poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow wow..... thats a very nice piece