A Collection of Original Poetry by Students of Ladysmith High School

Thursday, 2 November 2017

Her Story ~ Siyabonga Dlamini

She suffers...
She suffers alone...
Her mind is forever clouded with pain...death....
This is not a poem...
this is her story...

Her spirit is broken...
Her will is crushed beyond comprehension...
mine and yours...
even her own...
this is not a poem...
this is her story...

She spends her nights sleepless and in pain...
Confused...
Her mind a war zone...
trapped...
alone...
scared...
this is not a poem...
this is her story...
She sees blood everytime her eyes close...
Her heart,soul and body are dying slowly....
Claustrophobic in her spirit...
She screams but no one seems to be listening...
Slowly suffocating...
Not much life remains behind...
this is not a poem...
this is her story...

Watching her pass slowly...
My hands tied and my mind in a frenzy...
I cannot help her...
She screams but through the glass I cannot reach her...
Broken to a point of no return she dies before my eyes...
She slowly accepts her fate but I don't think I can easily let her pass...
this is not a poem...
this is her story...

The tears I try to wipe from my eyes and hers...
Her spirit I try to restore...
I try to put my arms around her...
but all seems futile...
She seems to be too far in for me to reach...
trapped in a far corner deep in her mind...
weeping and hopeless...
this is not a poem...
this is her story...

If ever the visions come to pass and her flesh turns to blood and her bones to dust...
If ever her spirit leaves this realm and disappears to nothing...
If ever she is taken from me too soon...
I will spend the rest of my days in constant confusion and suffering....
Dying more and more each day...
Sitting next to her grave until I am also... no more...
I cannot begin to explain her worth...
Or the value of her presence...
only that she lives in my mind through thick or thin....
even through death...
this is not a poem....
this is our story...



© Siyabonga Dlamini

Matriculant 2017

Master ~ Siyabonga Dlamini

It would be a lie to call you different from the others...
Disrespectful of me to even compare you to such...
If it wasn't the bright spark in your cinnamon coloured eyes then it was your caressing touch...
The African drums in my heart beating faster and faster...
And the way you could make my inner demons bow down and call you "Master"...



© Siyabonga Dlamini

Matriculant 2016

For Love ~ Two poems by Siyabonga Dlamini

...For Love...


I've tried....
I've tried...
Countless times I've tried to please you...
to be like you...
but it's too much...
I guess dark demons attract bright souls
but I often find myself wondering if there's still anything bright within my spirit?...
The luminous spark you so untimely ripped from my being like a new born...
thrown into the darkness...
My heart you blackened and struck
with each tip of the sharp words spearing from your lips...
Excuses are hurtful but false promises slander and destroy beyond comprehension...
You've left me broken and shattered just as you had found me..
but maybe worse...
maybe even more confused than before...
so let me heal myself and be whole once and for all...
My excuse is that I did it all for love...
Don't cry for me...
Don't try to save me...
for as I say all this I am already swimming in my own blood...



...Drip drop...


It flows down my wrist...
Warm and tickling my palm then my fingertips...
yet the sting on the wrist and the throbbing of the veins doesn't stop...
it's colour captivating and bright as it starts to decay...
I've never felt more alive...



© Siyabonga Dlamini

Matriculant 2016