By
Dime Maziba
Glasses of guiltiness
Glasses of guiltiness
staring on my wounded dignity
Women are being raped
while I’m bleeding secular poetry
Regrets control my mind
Should I wear soldier uniform?
To go and help those poor less souls
But through their eyes
Will I look like their kind?
Or should I sign some paper forms
And the so-called UN will implead.
Badcome to Beni !
Town of milk and honey,
But bodies are left inert
Like naughty pets
And kids moving up and down
In the world that imperialism owns
Human life has devalued
don’t give me attitude
I was born in solitude
O Uncle Sam!
Come listen to this empty words slam!
Your artillery spread my people’s blood
why can’t we smell the aroma of flower bud?
My eyes have dried up from crying my people
Wishing for world peace
No more killing no more hatred
No more crying or disaster
Full of hugs and laughter
I Write….
For the love of words,
I write.
Not to change the world,
But to enhance human rights.
I write to express my feelings
Because they still oppress my healing.
Slavery was once in the chains,
Neocolonialism is twice in the brains.
Oh blow! Blow dear hurricane!
Wash away all the warplanes.
My pen bleeds red ink,
Not like a soft drink,
But the blood of the East of Congo
I write to open up a case
Before money come to erase
I write not to be a journalist
Main medias don’t see my birthplace
Destroyed by the same capitalist
Those who claim superiority of their race.
My blank pages is spotted of red
cruor of innocents cries
The sunshine can make it dry
But 8 millions of my people are dead,
And my history remains unread
I dunk my feather in ink of gore
to express my bitterness,
Politicians sing a lullaby of deliverance,
The sluggish river of despairs floods.
No Comments Yet!
You can be first to comment this post!