My soul weeps,
My ice cold heart has been melted into a river of tears,
Overwhelmed by the social inequalities that have spread like spores over the years,
Septic sores that have turned rural virgins into whores,
My soul weeps for humanity is in a coma, drifting closer to death daily.
My soul weeps for the widows who lost their husbands in struggle,
The same women that barely have food on their table,
Feeding on government’s promises that their husbands’ deaths were not in vain,
Waiting on their spouses blood to fertilise their barren soil.
My soul weeps for dust babies,
Whose only desire is to own a pair of shoes,
Who walk through dark valleys in pursuit of food,
The very same children left to nurse themselves for the angel of death has claimed their parents,
My soul weeps for Africa’s starving young.
My soul weeps for 13 year old Duduzile,
Forced into prostitution so she can fend for her younger siblings,
Constantly beat on like a marimba drum by her pimp,
The scars and wounds on her feet from those that wanted more than what they were willing to pay for,
Her legs, always open like a cheap Hillbrow store that knows not of any public holidays,
My soul weeps for 13 year old HIV positive Duduzile.
My soul weeps for the tenderpreneur,
He flashes his assets yet has an empty soul,
He drinks himself to sleep for the screams of those he cheated to get where he is are constantly tormenting him,
Exploiting minors to obtain his blood diamonds,
Over working orphans in sweat shops,
He lingers around expensive boutiques yet he knows not that salvation is what he really needs,
My soul weeps for the black diamond who knows not that he has sold his soul to the devil.
My soul weeps for the Congolese refugee who fled to South Africa in search of a better life,
Knowing not that he’ll be abhorred by hostile hearts,
Termed “lilwerekere” and set ablaze in broad daylight,
Not knowing his search for safety would lead him to his death bed,
My soul weeps for the Congolese refugee who fell into the arms of Xenophobia.
To be continued…