A Collection of Original Poetry by Students of Ladysmith High School

Saturday, 11 March 2017

Mother's Hate ~ Taahir Sardiwalla

Down deep beyond the muck
Past this show of intelligence,
the facade 'greater than yours'
After midnight follies
Past feigned glories
There exists the divine knowledge
A power so intense

To the facade of rebellion
Unintended yet unavoidable
Power is devastation, humiliation
self-centered, uncaring

All the same, the truth stains
Her force be love


© Taahir Sardiwalla

Grade 12

Letter to my love... ~ Siyabonga Dlamini

I'm sorry for not being the one despite all my efforts,
for all my mistakes...
I'm sorry for my lack of understanding and consideration,
for all the heartache I caused...
I'm sorry that I'm easily replaceable,
that I'm easily forgotten...
I'm sorry that I was able to repel you with a few minor unintended misunderstandings,
despite how I remained through all the confusion you put me through...

I tried my best to please you
but I guess it's easy to lose track of months' worth of happiness together
as compared to a few weeks' errors and misconceptions while separate..
I'd say my heart is broken but at such a point in time I can  assume I don't possess one anymore...
Sorrow enforced insomniac habits and self induced lacerations have become my daily bread...
Neither the sight of my own blood pools on my sheets nor  deep wounds seem not to scare me anymore
my worst fears have come to as losing you was one of them
Once had you told me you possess the same fears but I guess you were finally able to face them...
The possibilities of you coming across this message are very slim yet I hope you do...
Once bearing the pride of your ultimate high, your ecstasy
but I guess you found your cocaine to replace me...
You never gave me the chance to elaborate on the reasons behind my misunderstandings
nor said your final goodbye properly but  guess I will have to live with it...
Each night is either clouded with visages of jealousy and suffering in my mind
followed by endless inquests lacking responses
or bloodshot eyes and shaky fingertips spent in my own company..
Sleep is only achieved either by extreme fatigue emotionally and physically...
Morning is clouded with unfulfilled hopes of another chance t speak to you again..
Sour disappointment and the sharp reality are my daily breakfast,
Best served cold...

One day I hope you will think about me, that you will care...
One day I hope that I may forgive myself and move on..
But until that day comes I will remain as I am...

Yours Sincerely

A Broken Man...

© Siyabonga Dlamini

Matriculant 2016