The Old Boy

A Poem

By Vusi Masuku

Shake him awake for
The point of school?
To organise the mind
Organise: Bring order from
Disorder, a disorder that once was
Embraced as order!
Is this mental organisation from
The institute of supreme organization
What makes a man from a boy?
After all, a boy who THINKS, is a man.
This thought is now his toy, so,
Think, does the boy who thinks, he’s a man.
Think, himself out of the poverty that raised him
That once embraced him.
Think, he leaves it behind because
He deserves better
Now that his thoughts are for sale
His mind is organised: Greater
Is this organisation that pulled him
Out of hell, a crater,
Is left in the heart of the boy
Who sold his thoughts.
To think he is a man
He must think he is no boy
And that thought is no toy.
So hollow,
Is the heart of the boy who thinks
He can no longer play.