Fertile soil that feed the vegitation
The green pasture of the livings
A field of mere, severe food chain

I migrate,lured of urban
I leave u behind
To a place that would wound my soul
Not even bleeding

I will be back
Where my umbilical cord has fallen
To tell the scars in my heart and their worth
My footprint will not be removed of wind or rainfall

I will preserve my blood
To run thicker in my veins
And forbid the running water of the urban
A penetration of my skin
For it would ruin its purity 


© Thabang Moabi


Day 1 | 14 November 2011

(South Africa)