From my grave

I watched as those l lived with were tossed aside and were no way to be seen.

I heard them weep from the time my soul departed from my body but the truth is,

the truth is that l long died way before l was even declared dead.

I watched as the unfamiliar faces, shed tears, watched those l seek help from

come in numbers from all corners while they always told me l am too far.

I watched as they decorated my grave with flowers l had never received and smelt while l was alive.

From my grave, I watched all my dreams, going down with beautiful coffin I was placed in and l saw my heart breaking again probably for the last time.

As the coffin went further down, l watched them pretend as if they were hurt little did they know l could see right through them.

As the coffin went down l was reminded l am nothing but just a memory now.

And from my grave l attended a special funeral,

It was special because this was my own funeral.

From my grave…

I am Sharon Ncube the African child.