Thistles In My Feet In This Walk Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

In my walk in life,
Thistles pierce my feet.
As I walk deeper, and deeper,
They go. I walk on my toes,
Limping like a deer
With a broken leg,
And wonder if I will,
Make it home before
Dark, for these keep
Me, from keeping apace
With life.

This journey began thistle
Free. Smiles and hugs this
Fox trot was lovely.
I jumped and leaped in the
Air and somersaulted too.
To walk was a thing of love,
All feet on the ground.
It was heady to join the
Walk, with my head in the
Clouds. Only to awaken
When my heels were,
Hurting real bad, with
These needles from the
Wild that had nestled,
Deeper than my hand could
Reach. So small, yet so
Painful, these dark spots;
Down there sting like pins,
Were stuck in me by a wicked
Witch.

I wish I could hang my
Feet up, and not walk on
Them now that I must
Crawl on all fours, like
A beast. biblical
Like one king we know. I have
Become, only of my own
Making.

When I should have bought
Strength, I sold it for
Favors. Gave out money
Like water gushing out of
A newly dug well in a desert.

Now the briers have me bend,
So poverty can climb on my back.
What an easy ride!
On a downhill drive
In a car that is in neutral
Gear.

It hits a road sign and turns
Before going into the ditch
It stops. Hands on my chest
I get out and limp on, for I am
Now on the doorstep.Yes I got
Home, with my hurting feet. Now
I must work them out, one thistle
At a time, on this path called
Recovery, where neither the time
Or the loss of dignity is recoverable