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Don't make me your case,
Stop being my judge.
Just give me some space,
And I won't hold no grudge.
You gave me war and I wasn't tough,
I need some peace.
I think I have had enough,
my heart is still in pieces.
No man with a toolkit can mend or fix me
Not even a body stretch or a waist bend or a
text can comfort me.
No doctor or sangoma can stop the bleeding,
Unlike the South African Flag, the red on my
Flag represents the Blood Shed of the love I
kept giving,
to You.
Go away
Voetsek!
Put yourself on display
Klusek
My mind is in pain,
I cannot abuse myself with such thoughts
There's very little to gain
Except useless fights
I don't miss you
I don't need you
I don't care about you
Do I love you?
Bright Oct 2013
Trapped within this heat there’s an
Ocean of thoughts defeating me.

Suicide has come and gone even death
Is confused. I am awake yet the whole
Of ikasi is half-asleep.

Conflict between races: black, white, yellow,
I mix these colors and get red for bloodshed
Bombarding my mind as I choose my artillery:
Butcher’s knife or bread knife? Mxm **** it, I opt to
Load my machine gun as I take no prisoners.

I live only by one rule “spare not the feelings of those
Who have none.”

As my stu-stu-stu-stuttering riffle goes “tat’ i cover lova,”
They blaze to bushes with rampaging speed and seeing as my weight
Constitutes a majority of ten, I choose to be democratic and side with its
Vote, by not running but instead sending a hail of bullets.



Voetsek, Voetsek and Voetsek I say!!

As dusk breaks into dawn I am shattered into reality as prison introduces me to myself. I started shaking like the last shivering leaf on a dying tree and came to realize:  The person whom I slaughtered was not only my neighbor, but was also my brother and if I have to suffer for my brother whom they call ikwerekere to survive, then I say “give me pain till I die!”.

— The End —