The riches of which you took
are not restricted
to the phone, the bag, the money, the book.
You went and stole some light from her head,
your careless and ruthless needs
lapped principles of humanity instead.
As she sits here in shock
and weeps over life’s sorrows,
are you there gloating
over the prizes you more than borrowed?
Sat in your red-peaked Adidas cap,
acting all cool,
laughing with your mates
while she can’t help but recall
the screwed up face
of a child, a fool.
All faith is not lost;
she picked herself up from the concrete moss,
and she came across
a dreadlocked man and his lady
who lent a hug and phone
as they calmed her crazy.
So to you,
a hundred thousand thank you’s.
Now to console a near broken woman,
whose lacking confidence
and low self-esteem
has once again been summoned.
A statistic in this dying nation,
she clings on to hope
that this incessant stagnation
can be cured by the steady ground
in which unconditional love is found.
For now, she rests her weary head,
her sore stomach healing,
the thought of forgiveness
at its least appealing.


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