My village

African culture

The grass buzzes across my legs,
The sun beats down across my chest.
I run back to the other side of the hill
I yell Kaiti
The game of which I play
My friends yell different words
All of them representing run.
A big flying object is coming
We throw the ball at it,
hoping for it to hit it
A machine made of metal.
With lots of white people inside it
They come bareing food.
Plentiful of it.
Delcious tastes I've never had before

Back to our business we went.
Picking fruits from the trees.
Fetching water and hunting.
Fathers teach their sons the ways.
While girls help there mothers cook.
My face is painted with the mark of blood.

Showing I'm a warrior at heart.

Ready to fight for my family.

The framily is the tribe.

Helping one another.

As I sit here thinking of life.

I hear the yell of Kaiti!
 

 

Author's Note

Kaiti is an african game my friend from africa has taught me.

Reviews

[Laura E. Aranda]

Good luck in the Africa contest.
The 13th line down you misspelled bearing
I think you might need to take the 'e' out.before the 'ing' and add it before the 'a'....cheers, lea

[Eddywards]

i enjoyed this just like every other poem of yours I've read(so far) I like your techniques so don't stop no matter what any one says. your writing is perfect the way it is.

[Jessica Fox]

another great poem you have some awesome talent, I hope you continue to write no mater what people tell you.

[K. Aurora]

It so nice when we can learn customs and new things from people of other cultures. You poem was a delightful reminder on just how diverse and big the world really is!

Great Write