Poetry

Gert Strydom


older other poems newer

24 may 2016

Africa

When I look to my own continent
there are only ruins of places
that at a time was glamorous and I struggle to fit in
the beautiful places where waterfalls does roar
and I see people who are ravaged by famine, war,
unrest and a population explosion,
people who die from pestilence,
who live totally immoral,
and wild animals do disappear into hungry stomachs,
while I am blinded by the sand
as if the desert is crawling
deeper and deeper into the continent
and the political majority does devour everything
until nothing is left for anybody.






Report this item

 


Terms of use | Privacy policy

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, by using this service you accept terms of use.


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please register

Ta strona używa plików cookie w celu usprawnienia i ułatwienia dostępu do serwisu oraz prowadzenia danych statystycznych. Dalsze korzystanie z tej witryny oznacza akceptację tego stanu rzeczy.    Polityka Prywatności   
ROZUMIEM
1