The Sad Reality Poem by Stella Sisanda Qishi

She queues outside the community hall
With a two-month old hanging loosely on her back,
The worn out towel carelessly tied;
A three-year old on her left
And d five-year old on her right
Their empty stomachs roaring at the sight of sizzling boerewors
They constsntly slap the air, misjudging the fly's flight
Whilst their 18-year old mother flips her silky hair back
Saturated with expensive gels, combed to reach shoulder length
And her 3-inch heels keeping dust at bay.
The budget has long been in place;
Stilletos, Levi's jeans, a perfume and a fresh hairdo
The rest goes to booze
The long nights jamming with like-minded souls
'What about the kids? ', we wonder
Well, they'll just have to torment their neighbours
With weeping like they did the previous months.
Being brought up by the streets
Soon they'll learn how easy it is
To point a gun for a slice of bread