To Maggie
Maggie Skosana
cut down in your youth
for the simplest reason
telling the truth
'twas the hand of your brethren
that cast the first stone
your supporters have fled
leaving you on your own
No one came to shield you
No Police siren rang
No help for the victim
of a stone throwing gang
Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears
No black hand outstretched
No holding back tears
in the crowd that surrounds you
as you writhe in the dust
You're a victim of society's lust
for freedom and gain
Look only to God now
for relief from the pain.
Did they drag you outside
your face in the dust
Did you scream, did you struggle
Did you cry "What is Just?
Where are my protectors,
why did they not come?
Your death knell was tolled
on a paraffin drum
Your legs do not function
you struggle to rise
They kick you and beat you
You look in their eyes
Many black hands outstretched now
but to kill and to burn
The stones pelt down faster
you have no way to turn
They called you Informer, a Traitor, a Liar
Matches held in black hands
light your funeral pyre
Your executors dance
hands raised high in the air
No one came to help you
No one did care
That you had a black skin
That you thought you were right
No help for you Maggie
From black or from white
The fire chars your body
your end has now come
to the thumping of hands
on a paraffin drum
We weep for you Maggie
that your death was in vain
That you died in the dust
That you suffered such pain
In the great Halls of Justice
those who committed this crime
Your Judge, Jury, Executioners
meet their maker in time
Their end surely must come
when it does it will be
to a slow...slow...beat on a paraffin drum.
Maggie Skosana was a young African woman who was burnt to death for unknown reasons during rioting in South Africa many years ago. I wrote the poem so that she would be remembered as an innocent victim of man's cruelty.
Copyright © Suzanne Spittal | Year Posted 2015
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