Motherland Woes

My bleeding cracked feet painful trudge towards my future

Brightly beckoning, a future so bright, where I shine not by bloodied feet judged

My brightly colored future, washing the shabby garb that protects me from the harsh realities of what I call life,

Coloring it bright with the promise of a life so bright "Ikamva eliqhakazileyo", 

A future where brick, by brick I rebuild my Motherland,

My cracked feet a transition of a legacy,

From the bloodied street and the sound of wailing mothers lost their sons to the violent times of our tainted history, to the empty stomachs and the wailing child violated by umalume,

A legacy I vow to erase, the Legacy of Poverty. 

As I trudge painfully with my cracked bloodied feet,

My bright future beckoning,

Washing my tattered garb, working towards rebuilding my beautiful Motherland,

A transition of Legacies from the bloodied streets,

The sound of a screaming man, as the force of the bullet tears his body

his dreams shattered, he lies on the ground, silence as he waits for the wailing of a lover to accompany his tortured soul to the land he so dreads, before he delivers his Motherland,

With tears streaming he walks towards his forefathers in shame,

To the beautiful colors so different yet merge to create the beautiful serenely mystic Rainbow,

And the sound of the bullet as it leaves the cocoon of its mother’s womb,

To silence the product of another’s womb affects the colors that we are,

As you embrace me I feel your warmth and your heart beats in synchrony with mine  

I realize we share the same spirit,

The spirit of us,

As we walk to our future worlds apart the land that binds us beckons,

And we walk and build brick by brick our land to the glory our forefathers knew  

With pride we walk because we are the Youth of South Africa borne of great man,

As we walk together our faces lit by the beckoning future I realize we are because we were,