26 November 2016
Just woke up from the silent scream of my pen
Shouting out my name to make prophecies from my inner self
I must confess, it’s the zeal that burns inside me that differentiate me from an average person.It enables me to understand the fine line between the world and the real word.I have a soft voice.
I am rarely called upon
But my thoughts scream so loud
And my eyes hold back tears
And I breathe breaths so ragged
They tear at my lungs.
I pull stunts,I’m actual and not almost.
I know about this vultures who mobilise every field of poetry but I am never scared. I am willing to take a chance to fight until it’s no longer a pain to bleed,
I wonder how it feels to be free,
To never feel insecure,
Never haunted by bad memories,
Never caged for eternity,
Having no dreams crushed,
Knowing what is love,
To just be me and forever live free
I wonder if these stories touch souls.
It’s the picture of my life I paint on these sheets,
I talk about pain and repentance,
I talk about everything that has anything to do with anyone,I bleed words that demand to be heard.I am the voice of the silent,The ones that are unable to speak for themselves,I am a body that carries pain.
I try to tolerate that pain because I was told that the result is gain,
I remain silent and traumatised in the eyes of those
Who are in love with my eyes when I cry,
Those who smile on my demise,
I observe and experience all these.
I am the society’s agent for feeling expression
The image of human kind
I hurt with no intention
Don’t get it wrong;I’m not a poet,
For that is a badge,a title,a label,
I am what a poet has written for me,
I am what a poet says .. I am poetry !!
Derrick Leswikane Dinaka ❌ Poetess Dee