Humming Anthems Not Our Own Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

With a world changing rapidly,
I hum yesterdays anthem in,
Tomorrow's notes
For I wonder when we will be one,
After trekking as today's homeless.


The song is new as is the language,
Which I learn on this third border,
Where the future is as out of tune as
The sounds on a rusty piano.

The conductor holds a gun in hand
That threatens to shut me up now,
When will the composer hear tunes,
Sung with death on our shoulders?
For the song is getting sadder,
When we thought new anthems,
Would welcome us with the sound
Of the trumpets of the dreams
That woke us up on the night we left,
The land of old anthems.

We dreamt of flags and marched on,
With them in hand only to learn
That music of immigrants is deadly
For it deafens the ears of citizens.