Being three

In the fields,
we would laugh and play,
Enjoying the warmth of the winter’s day.

We’d lay on our backs
In delight,
What a wonderful sight!
Clouds as soft as cotton candy
Some pink, others white.
We’d imagine we could fly
And touch the beautiful sky.

Oh! The joys of being three;
A time filled with glee!

In the fields,
Where we would laugh and play,
They found my body today.

Stabbed and left in a bag.

A community in tears,
They look to the skies,
I can hear their cries…
They call out my name
Again and again,
And lay pretty flowers on the ground…
Their anguish knows no bound.

Oh! The horror of being three;
Mzansi, please don’t let my killer walk free.

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