Born breaded on the dreadful dreaded streets
Streets flaunting with a full figure of potholes
Streets flowing sea of milk and honey
Infested by the sirens of the policemen
Flooded with convicts
Embracing scars of guilt without any remorse
Sobbing,throbbing at the corners of poverty realms
So sweet is the scent of blood of the fallen soilders
Dripping red blood at the sight of virgin pure eyes
Deafened by the gunshot f slayed at a brother
Leaving the mother in a funeral state
Is he not the same brother who looked after you?
Is he not the same brother you ate crumbs with?
Is he not the same brother you once played with?
What happened to brotherly love to turn into brotherly vengeance?
Taking away the deepth and breath of the bread winner
How does it feel to see your brother battling and taking his last breath?
Did you think about the wrath of void the family gonna feel?
Fathered mothered by a widow
Abandoned by the father at the brink of birth
Becoming a head before finding your own head
Widow wiping tears of her kids whist fighting her own tears
Swollen feet sowing in three jobs for a harvest forthree kids
Barring birth marks of poverty
Taking,grabbing away everybody’s virginity
Everybody losing their licence of hope
To steer drive the overlooking shadowing cloud
Flirting with the innocent streets
Courting the desperate cictims to the swamps
Give birth to prostitutes
Embrace drug lords
Prematurely choke off the potential
They smoke out peace
Assassinate future leaders
Deliver triplets of wars
Suffocate the cure of AIDS
Build an empire presided by broke mice
They book a train of problems to every household
They multiply viruses of pain
They instill fear to the hopeful
To learn more about the author, Mbongeni Nyadza, please visit “Meet the Writers.“