You paint your face in pale shades,
Transform your skin,
Because you were told you are too black.
Society convinced you do not fit in,
Yet from the ancestral origin,
You were born with the rising sun.
But you chose to settle in the west.
Adopted a life by the merchant ship
Sailing through the windy oceans
You forgot about Africa.
You are the soul that rumbles the belly of the earth,
Tumbles the mountains of Modimolle,
Flows through the rivers of Limpopo,
Settles dust in the deserts of the khoi.
Your heritage lives in you,
Remember your name as Nokukhanya,
The light bearer of the nation
Bare footed, you kneel and worship the ground
The ground that named you Bontle,
The beauty of Africa.
You were born here
And you will die here.
As a child of the soil.
Let me express myself through words.
/ One night my life shall end, the earth will open,
/ And the ground will swell, Only to preserve my bones.
/ Before I dissolve,
/ Would I have achieved my all,
/ Enjoyed a life of mystery and cause,
/ Or drenched my time in effortless activities
/ That produced no sign in to read more »
You will not see my name in history books,
/ Nor will a statue be erected in my image.
/ No road will be written in my name,
/ My home will not be an attraction for Tourists.
/ My contribution will go unrecognized,
/ And my existence will befriend my flesh.
/ I have endured hatred and disbelief,
/ To sign in to read more »
Johannesburg, South Africa
January 21, 2014
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