i am a wooden cross
with a young girl strapped to
my chest. she is crying, i can
feel the fear, her desperation , running
through her body, thrashing as
she tries to break free of the bonds.

'are you a witch?' they ask her,
the crowd standing in front is
staring at her, waiting on her
next words. she weakly denies but
they are angered and feel defied.

at the bottom of my body, beneath
her feet, lies kindle and they touch
a burning torch to the loose straw and
immediately it flares up into flames,
beginning to burn my base.

the girl screams out, she doesn't deserve this,
she never wanted any of this. 'witch, witch' the
crowd chants as the fire crawls up my structure.

i can feel her fear as she tries to break free, the fear
grips my soul and there is nothing that i can do
but to hold her in place as she burns for crimes
that she did not commit.

It's pretty and precious when you speak and spit those words of yours that are meaningless.
It's deep and thoughtful when you think you own the land that you were raised up on.
I think it's hilarious when shoes are compared to the price of bread.
Is it me that sees material being more worthy than food?
Brazilian weaves become ends meal and yet no meal is eaten at the end of the day.
Gold twisted to coins
And yet POVERTY is still a lifestyle.
The TRUTH being twisted into LIES.
Fast money reaching it's greatest  peak
But in reality we know that slow money is more purer.
Our hands are filled with BLOOD
Our MINDS are locked in chains
Our wrists are slit with blades.
We are blinded by our stories
Covered by our problems
Scared of the truth.
We'd rather face the darkness than being caught in the light.
Because I heard that once you're caught in light
You're a "GOODY-TWO-SHOES".
We throw punchlines
But they bounce back
With lines that form a REBOUND.
Superficial, materialistic and cynical is what we define.
DREAMS burnt away
As if in a crucible where metals are melted and purified.
Our streets are blocked by ashes
Our senses are polluted with gas.
Yes, our MEN are filled with violence
And yet our WOMEN appear to be resentful and bitter!
But have you forgotten that BITTER  was once SWEET
HATE was once LOVE
ENEMIES  were once FRIENDS?
It's more simple when we reflect our backs on the mirror
'cause now it's not us that we face.
We running from the truth
Due to our fear of our roots.
Remember that God didn't create a coward
Neither did he create a sinner.
It's just the life that we face that trickles us down.
We pop bottles in funerals.
We take shots on horses 'cause we want a hell of a ride.
Our tongues twist what's true to false.
We have become slaves of our sins
So in denial, lost, confused and BRUTALLY tampered with.
We are set for LIBERATION,
INKULULEKO
FREEDOM.  
We have misused our freedom.
Yes , we don't appear to be SINNERS,
We are sinners!!
But I prefer to be a RIGHTEOUS  SINNER . . . .