Friday, August 21, 2015

Olyfkrans Poets

The black badge of Africa 

I was born with the scent

Of wild flowers in the air. 

The smell of wood fires

And the cooking pot.

I was born to be proud 

Of the black badge Of my skin. 

My first tears flowed 

From the sting of smoke

From the pain of thorns

In my small naked feet.

-Khuselo Zazini, grade 9

We are quick to judge, but we are equal
Holding on a grudge, on other people
Society we live in we see some evil.
Struggle is real and very lethal. 
Dreams and nightmares people still have those
Making poor decisions, that life that they chose
Don’t matter what you go through, dreams do come true.
Put your mind to it, but just you do 
People acting, but they have no clue
Stereotyping each other but they acting like they never knew.
We are all fighting, but we need to forgive each other.
To think about the people in the struggle, and how they suffer.
-Sergio Shinga, gr 9