Papa, I know it took us twenty years to erect your tombstone 7/8 u ya lithanda...
All along the wind was blowing you away
The sun was burning you
Your pillow was your hand
But now Bila, Mhlahlandlela, rest in peace
Do not open the grave and come home wearing shorts
Since you left, your wife has remained in the house
I've not seen a man sitting on your chair
It's still your house
Full of trees and vegetables
Related Subjects
Poetry