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by siza Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1873834
thinking about my uncle who went missing in the SA struggle

Passionate souls formed I
Rose from ashes, into my bosom
Breathed freedom and I lived
I’ve never met them
You have only read about them on history pages
Referred to as others without names
It’s has been ages
Families rambled apart - hate is all my heart sings
Death played reggae in his head
He danced to redemption songs till he vanished
Into the heavy air and landed somewhere in Africa’s kind hand
My family had tears for dinner that night
Year: 1977
Day : blood smoky heavy and grey
Age : twenty
Living behind sister, mother, child and many yet to be born generations of his bravery
It sounds a lot like his obituary
Yet we were made to believe that traces of his flesh were spotted somewhere in Angola
And without a trace
Black weakens into many shades
Green and gold goes well with greed
And black remains shame
His memory fades in your reality and I still search for his remains
As you celebrate your prestigious foundations
I pray that his soul finds its way back home
You lie to my face
Fake his death certificate
Change your mind again
Tell me he lives in a mental institute without a trace
I cannot put my voice on mute
Until their lips leak with truth
Until someone decides to speak
Of the last time the green car dragged his feet
To where his bones are dying of thirst
Or where he lives lifelessly
Whiles I suffocate in this democracy
We’ve become colour blind
Unable to separate black from white
Our culture suffers
We’re like dry leaves growing far away from the roots that feed us
We run towards that light that burns us
Then we cover our skin in make up
Trying to fill our cup, we spill it
Cause we’ve lost it
Hoping that media will fix it
With a quick guide on how it’s done in Europe and America
And Africa wears the most expensive weave
Knows the best abortion pills
We drink his blood in bottle stores
Whiles poverty gives birth to more infants
Feeding on brandy tasting milk from their mother breasts
Its mothers raising sons and daughters sleeping with their fathers
Its society cursing freedom and black not part of the rainbow -
Nation weeps
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