POEM

a poem for myself
(when the game is over)

i grew up on hard-knocks but i'm older now
never had enough to eat malnutrition was my friend
we agreed it don't kill me i won't fight it with vitamins
that's why i like it here but i love it everywhere
got nothing left to gain my life i lived on the fastlane
against all odds m*th*f*c' i still rose

'ven today i need nobody just my blueprint by my side
'man is born free but everywhere i see him in chains'
my attempts @ anti-social behaviour drew rebuke
even those that made me cynic finally had some wisdom
told 'if you can quote the rules,
you can fucking obey them'
just need to consciously plan to be a saint not rebel
did you expect to kill & remain living?
questions came from botswana where they hang the villains
while shown a new way to live to evade the noose
lest i end up like marike be on the 8 o'clock news

there's one lesson that i treasure 'ven in the face of failure
if you can dream it believe me,
you can make it move
see beyond my skin colour i was born to be great
more so coming from the cradle of civilisation
born-hustler made ruthless by the hate sown in me
cut-throat i lead my life my middle finger's always sticking
but i never lose my focus though elusive's my prize

mentally conditioned over many provinces
rural thinking spiked with the city's fiction movies
i beat the rabbit to the finishing line i learnt its ways
find me dead of hunger please never mark my grave
for now i jot my passport out of the rot i've been dealt
navigating pacific a solo sailor with a poem
when 'shirley & thandi' became the women's anthem
the poet laureate laughed his way to the national bank
no detours my only drive was to cash the cheque
access my statement days later get puzzled by zeros
the ever-elusive lucifer finally caged in my vault
changing his name to six figures the root of my doom

tonite i catch a question from pessimists to my attention
'where your dogs @?'
they out in the cold world carrying they crosses
they hustling the streets jumping dead corpses
no time for h*s just the life ahead
i was smiling being broke
what's the vest doing on my chest as i approach a million

to my anchor i made a promise 'fore i followed my draft
our battle is fought
girl it's mental not sensational nor physical
you love me cuz i got something with me
unlike him he f*c' 'em & call 'em h*s after he cum
but me i'm enslaved to two vices the stash & the crotch
though i came up have-not cut from a f*ck*d up cloth
with me is millions of people all with plans for cash
when it's all said & done f*ck the group i'm all alone
sometimes i just sit on the roof watch the sun go down