I am from a place where it hardly rains
I am from a place of dusty winds
I am from a place where there is just dry soil and no parks
Where people are in love but don’t belong together

I am from a place
Where people speak rhymes of small talk
But don’t give one word of encouragement
Where teenagers educate themselves into society
Mother’s saying nothing
All they do best, is compare one miserable life to the next
Criticizing one child’s holiness with another’s sins

I am from a place where some people get to ride a horse
Or book into a country lodge
A place that says it practices humanity
But only some get to enjoy the Fun-Fair yearly

I am from Middelburg
A town in the Eastern Cape in the Groot Karoo
A place that breathes talented people
And spits them out to higher places
A place you won’t find on your map
But will find in the gap
Between Colesburg and Graaff-Reinet

I am from a dry place that once was a farm called Driefontein
My lungs are dusty
My blood is maroon and gold
I am from this place and I have the roots of a ‘bossiekop kullid kind’