Wander Without Rest Poem by Thabani Khumalo

From the day that I was born,
I recall I wasn't taught to be even.
Even when I was ailing to death
I didn't learn to be fair out of dying reticence.
The constant irresolute computations of mine
intend to me that I wander without rest
upon this piece of an arid land,
a desert land at scarcity of oasis -
and that causes it to travail like a torrent.
All of this added up to nothing but the warping
aberrations of my intellectual thoughts.