08/19/09
Accra, Ghana
Title: Africa
Africa
Holds her heart
Africa
Holds her soul
Africa
Holds her culture
Africa
Is her mold
The dirt road tells her story
The rocks share her pain
The bucket placed on her head
Proves she has no shame
The sun beats heavily on her back
The kids crying to be fed
The long hours, the hard work
Leaves little time or her head
Her hair rough
Personality tough
Her eyes show no fear
Her voice trembles
Her legs bare
Her eyes begin to tear
She wonders
She cries to God
What can I do?
I have no money
My husband dead
With these scarps of food
How do my children get fed?
She continues her struggle
Ignored by the crowd
Constantly wondering to herself
Why is Africa so proud?
We have greedy leaders
And dirty running water
We have no money for food
And no animals to slaughter
The dead lay out to rot
the sick, lay cut and bruised
People walking all over the place
Emotion, physically, and psychologically abused
Where did things go wrong?
She tries her best
She cannot do it alone
She asks for help
But has no phone
She calls for help,
No one to hear her talk
Scars on her small frame, disable her to walk
All this money
Too much greed
You would think the leaders would look at these children, and be encouraged to grow a beautiful seed
A seed full of hope
A seed full of love
A seed full of laughter
A seed full of hugs
Cannot understand
The way money is used
The way money is abused
The way money is misused
Cannot understand why people act blindly
To people standing in line
For things to save lives
Like medicine, and vaccines
These do make a difference
Like flu shots, and clean medical supplies
When a baby has just been born
This does not have to be the Africa,
We all claim to know and admire
But yet for some odd reason
We keep voting for liars
When will we stand up?
And reclaim the African dream?
When will we finally put our feet down?
And start to scream
Words of hope
Words of wisdom
Words of encouragement
But not words of cynicism
This is our Africa
This is our home
This is our culture and
This is our mould
Submitted by Martha Mutale, Gyfted Artyst
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This is beautiful! Very moving. I am teaching literature now. Do I have your permission to use this poem in my 9th grade class? I want to look at ways in which a poet creates mood and tone. Please, please, pretty please?
ReplyDeleteMs. Mutale, well written
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