DAYS IN SOWETO

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I remember everything in Soweto,
when I turn to look,
At how laughter isolated us between
fairness and blackness.
I see the visions like today!

When I remember,
I feel cold—burnt in joy
Grey in ashes and lost without trace.

When I remember the songs of ages,
I BowDances in my shoes
And laces the pains down the drain.

And going forward—up and down,
I tell tears in my bloody eyes
And resounds with grief in my deadly years.

For the days in Soweto,
The last point of the wilderness,
that darkest side of the mountains hill.
Was where we were!

It was where we were birthed, Lonely, Survived,
Grew, Wondered and Died.
And that was the end of what we toiled for!
When we were in Soweto.

I remember I was judged by the color of my skin,
I remember I was asked to leave the land of my birth,
I remember it was the last time I saw a brother,

But something happened,
Something strange happened,
In Soweto,
There was liberty!
But there was no liberty!
Story for another time.

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