Apartheid and A Dry White Season


    As I read through the lines I see fear not the truth,

    The pages are all stained, crumpled, marked with dark strokes,

    The words are screaming, they are going up in smoke

    In Africa, stop hiding they're destroying youth.


    A cover dark as the night or white as the light, 

    My heart is blind ; but is not deaf and will not be

    Dumb. The murders of my friends, threats, injustice, three

    Shots will find me unafraid until my last fight:


    I leave behind me an open book.


    A. (classe de 1ère)

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  • Comments

    Sunday 11st May 2014 at 22:08

    A powerful poem. Thank you for this moving piece of poetry!

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