Don't You See? Poem by Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche

Don't you see?

Don't you see that I am marred?
don't you see I am tired?
don't you see I am still young to labour?
don't you see the pain of being poor?
don't you see I don't have a choice?

Papa is dying with cancer, feasting in his stomach, eating his flesh, chemotherapy is just far from reach we just watch him dying,
mother is there next to him pretending to be strong,
but his leg is swelling,
the pus is dripping like a perennial river.

Don't you see I am now a man?
jumped many many stages now I think like full grown up man.
Don't you see the hardship of being born poor?
Raised by a poor hand and watch the poor hand dying and being left alone without anyone to feed you poverty.
Do I have a choice?
The most corrupt land I was raised in
The lowest GDP, the greediest politician
The economic is dead mother
The society is affected mother
The religion is eating on manipulation
The religion rat belly is more bigger than mine
The politics a deception and devils in suits
Thus Africa.

Tapiwanaishe Pamacheche

Picture Jeremy Snell