BY BOGOGOLELA DANIEL RONALD
I have been stuck in traffic for hours now,
A dark cover slowly spreads above the sky,
Street lights illuminates as;
The sun wave cirrus clouds goodbye.
Birds sing songs of disgust as they know not if their nests—
will survive the often unforgiving storm.
I look outside my window;
A homeless me just manages to push his cart full of boxes,
Two drivers hurling insults at each other over a minor traffic offence.
Economic news boom through my vehicle’s radio speakers,
I wanted to be an economist when I was in high school,
Poverty changed my thinking after school.
Sometimes I sit down and wonder;
What would I have become had good people pitied me.
AERODROME 