Thabang Ngoma Poet Lyric

The Dying Grass

The thud of the chalk duster 
Scatters the young minds
Of the dying grass

The lessons they rote like mist
Rolling over mountains of screams
To muffled ears 

Plastic bags of white powder 
Clouds so many innocent dreams
Into body bags

The school gates open
To the street teaming with life lessons
From short supplied textbooks 

The history books turn a page
To wet fingers of a silent class 
Itching for progress in their stagnancy

Flickering like a candle 
Placed in a half empty glass
Tossed into the wind to echo ignorance

Locked behind high cement walls  
Laughter poured from a tap of love
To water the seeds of the fruit of knowledge

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