THE CHANGE.
.
The rain last night came
tip-toeing,
His bag was full of iced
promises,
Soon they melted into seas;
salty,
Our eyes regretted
beholding.
.
We begged the night with
dying words
On our sick-beds from
broken wards,
Our pain stood as witness,
Our cries became never
less.
.
A new sun rose from the
north,
His first touch carried
rays of top notch;
Rays that can strike a
beggar into a lord,
Under, we dried our wetness
and blessed God.
.
But this sun loves blood
more than ordinary,
Like a parasite he sucks
stylishly,
Our thumbs now cry 'Weak-Low' (Wicklow);
The thumb that pushed this
sun to glow.
.
With our minds running
backward
Through the paths that
pierced our soles - souls,
We only wished the rain
never took our hats - hearts,
This sun won't be a
'bored-den' - burden.
Wicklow is a farmstead in Waterberg District Municipality, Limpopo, South Africa. "Limpopo" comes from the Northern Sotho "diphororo tša meetse," meaning "strong gushing waterfalls." The province was formed from the northern region of Transvaal Province in 1994; another name considered for the province was Mapungubwe, the area where its most ancient gold-using civilization had been discovered a few years earlier. Limpopo has the highest level of poverty of any South African province, with 78.9% of the population living below the national poverty line. In 2011, 74.4% of local dwellings were located in a tribal or traditional area, compared to a national average of 27.1%
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