MY METAMORPHOSIS by Oswald Mbuyiseni Mtshali

Once,

I was a sapling of a boy

luxuriating in the garden of adventure 

watered by the inebriating she been tap; 

my feet were youthful roots 

which ran wild in search of self-satisfaction 

and produced a  branchful of knowledge.

Then,

I landed in a prison cell

where introspection gnawed at my heart

like a rat on a chunk of cheese.

  For six months I lived with them

murderers, rapists and robbers

on our eyes hung shroud of misery,

our cheeks were pages on which was written the law

of defiance to all norms of authority;

we were comrades in crime and intrigue.

Now,

perpetually at prayer while constantly cursing,

I am a mouse of sublimation,

introvert, waiting or night's cover 

when I can pillage the cupboard 

of my rare bread, solitude 

and feed my hunger to read, 

to dream, and to write.