Silence is my homeland—
I speak its accent fluently.
Words, wrapped politely as “generational curse”—I come from it.
Silence raised me like a second skin,
Teaching me to listen with more than just my ears.
I am from the broken generation.
You may not see it.
Look at my face—you’ll see the burden I carry.
There’s someone I wish I could quit:
Myself.
Just two hours of studying, and I’m on the verge of tears.
I’m doing it to break a cycle,
To fix a generation.
Education may not be your key—
But for me, it’s the only one.
The key.
The freedom.
I have no one to cry to,
No connection to succeed—only the fire inside.
Look into my eyes:
I am a handsome young man.
But poverty paints me ugly.
Do you think I love it?
Or maybe I prefer it?
Not even a little.
When I feel tired,
I stare into the mirror—
And I hear my mother’s voice rising from the grave,
Telling me I am the last hope of this family.
I hate that voice.
But she’s not lying.
It’s not a story—it’s my reality.
If you give studying a try, the golden moment may find you.
You get them one in life,
Never write yourself off from success
You are hope.
You are the present.
You are the breaker.
An hour of a book will be a lifetime of fruits.
I am Khongelani Ngomane, An 19 year old young man. I am originally from Nelspruit, Mpumalanga, South Africa, but I am currently in Cape Town studying Library and Information Studies at the University of the Western Cape. I fell in love with poetry when I was still in primary grade seven, as I grew up so shy. I do Xitsonga, zulu and English poems,s but I am originally from a Tsonga tribe.