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
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
