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Aug 2018
In an iron collar they dragged me
Yarely like a wretched ship my value faded out in the horizons
My Brocken, bruised fingers picked food from their trash
I became there donckey,
And I lamented,
My blood! My sanctuary! My sweet Africa!
You have condemned me to rest and spend my nights in my own excretes
You have striped me naked.
And so, you have corrupted my innocent soul.



Beneath the echoes of my silence I hid
I sobbed as I stood over my soul under the sod
They made me a ******
Every night I nursed my pelvis, from the *** games they played on me
And I grieved
My blood! My people! My sweet Africa!
You cursed your own
You painted despair on the canvas of my heart
And so, you took away my life.


My pain lived on, and did continuously spread like a cancer
My soul they dejected. And piece by piece they ripped it apart
I prayed to the wind and the thunders
Liberate my soul! Break my shackles!
Hear as I cry out
My blood, my flesh my sweet Africa
Your dignity wondered
You devalued my life for a piece of garment
So even in death I utter on echoes of grief.
HOWARD MWABA
Written by
HOWARD MWABA  28/M/zambia
(28/M/zambia)   
173
   Fawn
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