What lead me here?
I mean how I got here
It came to my medulla that
change is now to there.
I'm here
here because they started there.
Grown and young as I am,
the path that lead me here
Who sawed so I could reap?
Who cried so I could rejoice?
Who died so I could live?
Am I productive, am I destructive,
Innovative?
I need to achieve
I speak of them today
Heroes and heroines
Metallic stones passing their ears
but with the last stone in hand
He'll breath freedom uprising from my
spirit
Oppression buried with them and
left us a worthy phrase to utter
Free at last
Imagine Math's and Physics in
Afrikaans for a black child.
Brains deceased someone is
going to build an estate on it
Grave yards for lunatics,
a state of enterprise, where the
bright gets brighter and dark
rather not remain, you are not worthy they say.
Remember once again and
celebrate again
How shameful to see them crying
and asking...
Is this what we fought for?
Strikes and burning schools
cutting thy nose to spite thy face
I refrain yet it pains me to see
them remembered through booze
and blood. free at last they say yet no change.
Forgotten tomorrow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem