Tomorrow, Where Are You

Tomorrow where are you ? I am a child of mzansi, A child of a nation raised by a struggle of apartheid, as I emerge as a wound Meant to glister, advertising the anguish of my fore fathers Raised to cease all the nation’s bounty in their name, As their pain can still be felt through the cracked township tar roads. I am the promised future, Born of tireless protests, teargas and blood Blood washed clean of the judgments of my skin colour And left to germinate on this waste land called poverty As mothers fertilise this land one clean toilet at a time. I am the repressed grievance of the people, Who’s voice never transcended beyond the ballot paper Trapped in a subliminal blackmail of before 1994 And feed grand promises of a better tomorrow As two decades waste way I still ask “Tomorrow, where are you?”