I'M Alive
I can barely hear the sound of the engine of my favourite car
Through all that traffic, the cheerful laughter coming from the bar
I overhear parts of conversations on footsteps of passersby
The soles of their shoes bid my dying soul goodbye
I read an article about a successful business
On a torn newspaper six months behind my success
A hard pillow, my worldly belongings beneath my head
A ragged bag doubling as my wardrobe and as my bed
My stomach nags me to be fed like a neglected child
Bitter tears hurt the cracked skin around my eyelids
It’s been some days without a bite and strangely
Though starved, I have no appetite for food nor for life lately
I pass out and wake up to eyes staring back at me
I couldn’t sleep so I’m either dead or in a dream...
The scent of a half plate of food infront of me, “Are you hungry mister?”
I mutter something that scares them off like I’m a monster
The sun comming up warms my pale existence on the cold cement
Dewdrops on my face attempt to wash my darkened skin pigment
Full of earwax I can barely hear that engine again that revs
My pulse and I rise to my feet and shout, “I’m alive!”
Copyright © Thabang Ngoma | Year Posted 2015
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