By Mudhanganyi
What un-qualifies me? What makes me a stranger?
What makes me the different strand, one queer block posing danger
My dialect, tone, ascent, color?
My birthplace, president or unasssuming demeanor
Why does it seem I alone has to face the culler?
I am known by my many things,
Never of the good ones
But mostly insults, and of them lashings.
My armpits smell
Simple etiquette, it seems, I don’t do to well.
Brothers we are, sisters we are
Inlaws we have become but still demarcated
Geographically and emotionally our hearts be the landmark
It’s a sad tale,
What a bloody, poor heartbreak.
Scapegoat, spoiler, wrecker, taker
Invader, looter, undesired heartbreaker
Asylum seeker, expatriate
Names I’m given when all I pray for is that we relate.
What happened to love
What happened to Ubuntu
If we can’t, forward we can never
But there’s a good ending, if willing, and it begins with you.
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