I’m from a place where dreams die in your sleep,
Quietly, softly, as if they’d never been.
Because people prefer a flock of sheep
To dreamers with dreams that demand to be seen.
I’m from a place where “No” is an implicit “Yes, please,”
Where a woman is made to lie flat on her back.
Whatever she wears, she is always a tease.
“Consensual”, they’ll say, “Not an attack.”
I’m from a place where crime is a song on repeat.
We know the words, the tempo, the beat, the tune.
And yet the policemen are too slow on their feet,
An arrest made once in a blue moon.
I’m from a place where religion causes a divide
Amongst family, friends, and besotted lovers.
A place where faith is intermingled with pride,
And sick, sinning men use priesthood as covers.
I’m from a place where fortune is a meal on a plate.
Where the rich sell stories of their charity,
And the poor man, head down, resigns to his fate.
A place of unequalness, a place of disparity.
But, I’m from a place that is a diamond in the rough.
Cut and polished, South Africa will shine.
Until we rise up, saying “We’ve had enough!”
Our diamond will remain in a dusty, dark mine