Gedicht
Gcina Mhlophe
SITTING ALONE THINKING
SITTING ALONE THINKING
SITTING ALONE THINKING
Lately I have more than onceFound myself sitting alone, thinking
Not that I have such a lot of time
Just to sit and think –
I’m a busy woman with a heavy schedule
I have to try and keep up
With the fast world around me
But then somehow it happens
Right in the middle of all the hustle and bustle
Everything just stops
And I find myself sitting alone, thinking
Would Mr President be a better man
If he had a womb and breasts full of milk?
Would he be impressed by the number of children jailed
All in the name of peace, law and order
If he had just one ten-year-old in jail?
Would the smell of tear-gas and bloody bullet wounds
Be so appetising as to bring
That familiar smile to the President’s face
If he had a womb and breasts full of milk?
All the visions come up to me
When I’m sitting alone thinking
Thinking of my very best friend
As she sits in a jail cell
Longing for her little baby
Her painful breasts full of milk
© 1980, Gcina Mhlophe
From: Love Child
Publisher: UKZN Press, Pietermaritzburg
From: Love Child
Publisher: UKZN Press, Pietermaritzburg
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SITTING ALONE THINKING
Lately I have more than onceFound myself sitting alone, thinking
Not that I have such a lot of time
Just to sit and think –
I’m a busy woman with a heavy schedule
I have to try and keep up
With the fast world around me
But then somehow it happens
Right in the middle of all the hustle and bustle
Everything just stops
And I find myself sitting alone, thinking
Would Mr President be a better man
If he had a womb and breasts full of milk?
Would he be impressed by the number of children jailed
All in the name of peace, law and order
If he had just one ten-year-old in jail?
Would the smell of tear-gas and bloody bullet wounds
Be so appetising as to bring
That familiar smile to the President’s face
If he had a womb and breasts full of milk?
All the visions come up to me
When I’m sitting alone thinking
Thinking of my very best friend
As she sits in a jail cell
Longing for her little baby
Her painful breasts full of milk
From: Love Child
SITTING ALONE THINKING
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