Of Africa

in the distance upon the wind are heard cries left unanswered against a backdrop of riotous color shimmering in emerald of pale eyes blinded to the black upon the soil treading on emotion and dreams held in the dark recesses where cream never looks they lay upon the white sheets to wrap tender souls as children remain lost parents forgotten interned under unmarked graves except for tears falling silently I stare into Africa into a past that seems unmoved by the future stuck between equalities that are lopsided and diseases that shadow the poor like an anxious undertaker while I sit and sip lemonade in tall glasses in the shade of a tree not really my own but claimed for my protection wrapped in cooling veils that shield my eyes from the harsh realities and cover my guilt with silk easing my conscience I stare out of Africa now to a world of ignorance for I am not alone not the only blinded person that chose to be that way as the cries crawl across the land and dead animals line the roads leading to human graveyards where the gates are always swinging open to welcome the natives home I stare past Africa now and wonder in sadness will she survive all we have done of even survive all we haven't done as the blinders fall away and I uncover my ears the pain and cries reach me conveying the answer no, she will not survive us for not enough of us truly care...