in future's door
from where you standing,
on past’s floor.
It’s the hurt you live and relive again,
cried to many tears to alleviate this pain
Cried to many tears and from tears I refrain.
My need is freshly minted, newly cut,
the cold steel burns into this rut.
Take down this picture of me standing alone,
the print is all too familiar, its probably etched in stone.
The print leaves me hungry, Ethiopia to the bone.
Leave it on the heap, top of the rubble,
where I sat unpacking the lies,
I have no regrets, it was with humanness I tried
And with humanness, that it all died.
I am taking up new territory, I am marking it like a man
I am stabbing at this pattern
Like pre-1990 ANC ban.
I am becoming my own fan…
