Mandela's Grave

Remember ninety-five When we felt free We felt alive We hugged and kissed Rejoiced in freedom Rejoiced and sung Songs of freedom Mandela walked As skeptics talked But he walked on high And touched the sky He loved and he gave The spirit of the brave He forgave and reconciled A sad and battered child He gave us hope He gave us life He freed us from our thoughts of strife He crossed the divide Of crossword puzzle blocks And gave us the clues - We threw down our rocks But here we are now Tectonic plates crash on our brow Where is the hope gone? Where is the future that we had won? As we slipped from meritocracy To simple mediocrity We look around And all we found Was our hopes dashed Dashed to the ground Our children suffer, forlorned Whilst louts with shovels shovel the gold Of our future that was pawned For the few our future was sold And as the fat asses Roam around in masses Eating the hay that was made when the sun still shone Eating the food that the cattle had won But brayingly they still prance around Relishing in their new wealth found As the baby dies hungry and cold And the baby is buried in hallowed ground Remember back in ninety-five When we all felt thrilled – Alive! Remember the victory songs Of how we would right the wrongs But now we wrong the right As for gold and wealth we fuss and fight And in his cold and lonely grave Mandela turns And weeps As his long road Stops At his grave