A Beautiful Zulu Poem

Granny Zibenzele

Fed up! Can’t stand up on these feet. No voice
to hear. No fire in belly, I’m beat. No choice.

Drip, drip, drip change begins small, but then when
from within; becomes big, meaningful, again and again.

You can’t deliver self esteem on a plate
But raise me up… new skills, I rise to make Africa great.

I find voice, I create choice, on fire now I read
With Zimele’s help and support; now I am freed.

By: Jess Driscoll


0 Responses to “A Beautiful Zulu Poem”

  1. Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

about me

Thanks for visiting my blog.

%d bloggers like this: