Cigarette Bud
Curl me up a tree
Wrap me into a bundle
Light me up like a candle
The warmth of my joy
Kills the carvings you fear
Yes, it bothers me
How you take pleasure in my pain
We are paperless in this age
The pen is made useless on a page
This knowledge falls on deafness
Enlightenment ends in blindness
Scientists, powerless
Fear big business
Imagine the textbooks in the toilets
Education flushed down the drain
The empty classrooms
The air thick with ignorance
The stench of a mental disease
Written on the chalkboard, “REcyKiLL”
FAX me to your heart’s content
The pulp, I hope he gets a paper cut
I wept until my roots were uprooted
My leafless branches dried up and twisted
My timber became rooftops
At least cultivate me an artificial forest
A sort of vegetation urbanisation
Then my offspring would grow
To see the light of day
Taller than the black clouds of smoke
I couldn’t clear
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2015
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