I was born at a time when the new South Africa was a toddler, learning to walk.
My thoughts are like unlit fires, yearning to spark.
Batman forever, I’m alone in the dark.
Confident like Mr. Coletrain.
Can’t recognise the one in the mirror, pain burns like propane.
My work is reminiscent of Beethoven.
Call me ugly and short.
Fact is, I’m the Lords chosen.
These words spoken.
Remind me of my great-grandmother
Soft and gentle.
And I can’t let the rest come out.