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by SAKHILE INNOCENT MHLANGA May 9, 2017
Sadness, depression /
THE EVER FRESH STRUGGLE
After years of a peaceful death,
I am still in the progress,
From the path of the un-favoured to survive
The blessing for them,
Turned to a curse of others
The yoke of outsiders
Whose minds think of few good things?
Logically perceiving the acts of an abnormal person
Which if not
What can it really be?
Those they; is the innocent we
Whose innocence is found cautioned
Tempered to revenge,
Even when Respect, took control of Composure
The perpetrator claims to be the victim
And yet throwing more delinquencies
To the victimised victims
So poorly heard,
Lodged in confused minds