I Write Words Poem by lazola sigidi

I Write Words

Rating: 5.0


I put ink in paper to write truth
To write scenes of sorrow and pain
The pain of my morsel bread snatched from my lips
And the drop of water dashed from my cup
I sometimes get deranged and wild
To ease crazy mind I strove words
I sing and utter sighs between my line essays of true words I write
I write
I write words to my ancestors
Who boiled my blood in a clay pot of passion
Who jungle drums sending magical rhythms in me so raw like bleeding flesh
Speaking of youth and the beginning
I write
I writer words to my youth, my next generation
Hoping they can run azure on gold sands
And being let their naked tongues run naked in to books
For we must open those doors and windows for them to fly
I write
I write words to my brown skinned
Who have heavy hearts and feet
Who lost hope
I want to say to them
Let no colour define
Let no colour define your dreams your future your beginning and ending
For you are Brown Brave black and Beautiful
Ndiyaziqhenya ngani mzontsundu


POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
well this was my first poem i wrote in my life.and and in this poem i find me in it my past life, my life living in the sharks and my life dedicating to my brown skin and my youth.this poem says alot about who iam.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Lazola Sigidi 12 August 2013

well @ dave walker thank you for the feed back and yes you will see more poems, at siyabonga i think i feel it more when i repeat it cuz i want it to sink in your mind that i am just writing words

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Dave Walker 08 August 2013

A really great poem, hope to see more from you.

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Siyabonga A Nxumalo 08 August 2013

I put ink in paper to write truth To write scenes of sorrow and pain The pain of my morsel bread snatched from my lips And the drop of water dashed from my cup I sometimes get deranged and wild To ease crazy mind I strove words I sing and utter sighs between my line essays of true word I write I write I write words to my ancestors Who boiled my blood in a clay pot of passion Who jungle drums sending magical rhythms in me so raw like bleeding flesh Speaking of youth and the beginning I write I writer words to my youth, my next generation Hoping they can run azure on gold sands And being let their naked tongues run naked in to books For we must open those doors and windows for them to fly. the poem is beautiful, kodwa ibingaba yinhle kakhulu ukuba beyinezigamu kanjena ngenxa yaleyampinda msindo/ magama. but tinhle anyway. Siya_! !

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