Their dirty mouths say
I’m too young,
But, in my mind,
I am old like their ancestors.

As their eyes see me moving
Like a chameleon on the road,
Their brains think
I’m tired of my life.
Their little minds don’t know
That my legs are busy hunting
For my dreams –
Like a poacher.

As my goal waves at me,
Their hatred grows tall like a blue gum tree,
Their hearts start pumping
Jealousy through their veins.

As I marry my dream job,
Their faces never hesitate to shade
Me a smile,
My failure is what their mouths
Ask their God for when they visit
Their church.

For hard work pays off.
My boss lifted my body higher
To see the top of Table Mountain.
As I stand on the forehead
Of the mountain,
I never stop preaching to the young ones.

No mountain is too high.
All you have to do is
Have faith in the climb.