Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015
I graduated fresh and ****** from my mother's womb,
a gift, greater than any other.
My sister before me too.
My brother after me was swallowed up by Him
mere hours after drawing his last breath his first.
Behold:
This is my unambiguous declaration against
this universal truth: my unparalleled defense
of the dignity of man
against the temperature-empty, relentlessly inhuman
universe unconcerned with these ventures
which characterize knowing it

not. For one day I shall call
my teachers byΒ their first names. One day
they shall call me doctor. This is the totem
declaring the worth of the living and the dead,
my sister and my brother: myself. The totem
of the disenfranchised andΒ Β barely and disabled
and black. Even also less including I guess
the enriched the cup overfloweth and mighty
and colourless. Our skin and bones and graves
and blood and ****** and lust and chest and
******* and being and nothing and isness is

beautiful

regardless of everything. It is mine.
It is yours. It is yours.

Votre.
Tawanda Mulalu
Written by
Tawanda Mulalu  Gaborone, Botswana
(Gaborone, Botswana)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems