I Am Not My Own

I am not my own,
For I had nothing to do with my existence,
I was merely a thought mercifully conceived in the creator’s mind.

I am not my own,
For I did not design nor decide what skin dark or bright to permanently wear,
I was clothed in black/brown earth following the potter’s careful image.

I am not my own,
I am nature’s because I swing on icy strings tied around its hands,
I am my land’s as my existence is the extension of its love,
Not my own, never my own.

Gerry Sikazwe is currently a student at the University of Zambia studying for a Bachelors degree in Adult Education. He manages his poetry page on Facebook, and his poems have been featured on Africanwriter.com and Mshikamano.com Read other articles by Gerry.