Ghetto People Poem by Thabani Khumalo

MY HOMIE MY BULLY
YOU ARE CHILLI AS THE COLDEST WEATHER -
BITING COLD,
BITING LIKE THE STEAMY WATER.

TELL ME SO,
TELL ME IMMA GROUNDED ZERO.
TELL ME SO,
GHETTO IS MY PEOPLE MOANY.

HONESTY MY ONUSIE
IN ONUSIE I LINGER
AND I HOPE TO LIVE A LONGER LIFE
SHOULD JESUS DO ME FAVOURS.

HONESTY HAS A STORY
BUT THE LIES WOULD KILL A STORY.
ADVERSE THE GHETTO SORROW,
I AM TELLING SADDEST STORY.

HEART OF THE GHETTO STORY,
FILING UP THE PEASANTS' SORRY
SWAYING OUT WITH AGEING FAILURE
HENCE THE HEALING'S HURTING PEOPLE.

DIGNITY'S NEVER SHAMEFUL;
STATUS, MY GHETTO PEOPLE.
EVEN THOUGH WE'RE CRYING LOUDLY,
ANARCHY'S NOT THE ANSWER.

SO THEY BURN MY GHETTO PEOPLE
AND THEY CHEER TO BRUTAL MURDER.
ORPHANAGES TAKING OVER
ALL THAT TRAUMA LIPID ENERGY.

MY THOUGHTS ARE FIGHTING LOGIC,
I AM BEREAVED OF SOLDIERS.
THE CITY'S BUILD ON LOGIC
SO I FIGHT A LOSING BATTLE.