For Those Whose Hearts Still Bleed.
They desecrated sacred ground,
Remorselessly committing their crime.
It was to keep them safe and sound,
They said, as they yanked the children,
The bawling, doomed, little babies,
From their dear mothers' arms.
Oh, the things they did to those innocents
Are for ever etched into bleeding hearts.
It was those men and women of God and sense
Who behaved like devils, broods of vipers,
But dared to say that they cared,
More than the no-good black parents, of course,
While they starved those children of love,
And instead to them heartache fed.
It was the years that did the etching.
All those years away from home and Country
Culminated into suicides, both child and parental,
And communities they call "dysfunctional",
As fate finished its final sketching
Of a nation's judgement—
With no retribution
For the ones that did the stealing.
ČTEŠ
The Ones That Did The Stealing: A Poetry Collection in English
PoezieA collection of thoughts in the form of poetry.
