Hellow Poets and Poettes... Ive been writing this poem for 2 Months and still cant finish it... Kindly please tell me your views and positive criticisms... Enjoy.:) Wolves of west street (Ziphozonke Phuphu Masondo) The ghost wolves of west street possessed homeless kids, with their inhumane black beings and red eyes they smoke glue to get dizzy and eager to kill, To them, life is no matter cos they have no space to occupy/ Poverty is the daily meal when you only survive by the smell of a pie/ Cops chasing street kids from their homes, Walking barefooted in the cold, Warming their chicken skin with anger cos the sun is too far, We feel for them afar, But we fear them close/ Cos they might snatch your bag or make you take off your clothes/ Street orphans of the day, selling their sleep to the night and turn wolves on a bright moon/ We worry about things, They worry about tomorrow, Receiving life like food parcels only on a mandela day, But its never enough, because 67minutes are stunts of publicity to summarize a movie of their daily struggle life, How can you survive on one meal when you still have to hustle 364 days, Its their reality, Competitions in every corner, all contestants want to be bread winners/ we die from diseases, They capitalize on weaknesses, thats why they take life of those not on their side/ Its either you run with them or run from them/ The devil is a liar but they always listen/ Cos its hard to digest the truth in a stomach you have nothing to put in/ To them, religion is complicated cos they dont have a warm shelter to worship christ in/ With their smelly torn clothes, In churches they wont let them in/ Smart beautiful girls turned to street hoes/ They dont even know the depths of their holes, cos its deeper than love, Selling virginity along with humanity, With makeups blocking the eyes they cant even face reality/ Mistaking prostitution with prosperity, throwing themselves to married man, Causing chaos/ No one is taking care of these wolves, You only care when its yours/ We put big headset when they try to speak to us, They even write in cardboards and display it in our car windows but were too lazy to read, Begging please, Some putting plastic bags saying hi, Im Mr Bin put your dirt in me please They cant even speak with the government, Because free service delivery is too much expensive, Its only fair service when people get paid/ Youre not competent if you dont get laid, Justice comes with cash, Democracy is corrupted when your vote is only worth a free t-shirt/ What shall we do, When imagined freedom and ignored reality clash/ ...To be continued...
Posted on: Wed, 13 Aug 2014 04:47:39 +0000
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