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...
Copyright © Bernadette Langer | Year Posted 2007
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