I stand puzzled
Jail was land of my sojourn
for a decade
Now out of it all
building my life anew
I meet you dear woman, woman of the green breeze
Your mom is so illogical, thoughtless and heartless.
she pours a bucketful of human excrement
on my face, and expects to hold
the child of my blood in her arms
calling him her grandson
I am left grappling
with tremors of prejudice.
poem by Tshifhiwa Given Mukwevho
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