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Poem

I remember the land,  

I remember its people,  

They ways, the stupidity of 

Their mentality, I never came 

To heard of this term depression 

Until earlier on in life, 

I came to terms with hatred, bigotry 

Because it’s a disease, right up there 

With cancer, and corvid 19 

 

Do you remember, the children 

Of the eighties, and their carefree looks on life 

 Drugs, sex and intellectual freedom, 

 

It goes like this. I don’t think of labor 

I don’t think of work. To be laboring 

Means to be working, and if it's not self employed 

Its slavery with small wages. From the man. 

 

“i remember the land and I remember its people 

They stupidity from their mentality had worried me 

I remember the dead, and I remember 

How those trees outlived them, 

I Remember the language of the trees, 

That whispering sound of freedom 

And the sound of human longevity,  

Due to the kindness of a matured land 

 

The waste land we leave behind, 

 even without spoken words 

Can tell a story, of abandonment, 

You might see a grassy area, I see, a court date 

I see families fighting for ownerships,   

I see illegitimates children,  

fighting for the right 

The land we leave behind, even without 

Spoken words, know it's worth. 

How you come to terms with yours..

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