By Fikile Dlamini Pound, pound, poundBlood vibrating through my veins Stomp, stomp, stompI burst through the city of my mindDarting in and outI will not stop lest I hit the groundFace to faceOne must go down; the pound or the stompI am a child; born in the wildForced to reconcilePredator and preyLook up at the … Continue reading Hold that fear
