My Confession

MY   CONFESSION


Oh yes it’s corny  I know
To say I love America but it is so
When I look around at the restriction 
And these old methods and ways of affliction
In my un-American surrounding
And feel the blood in my head pounding
With anger and held-temper
At the man paid to be my gatekeeper
And when I see the planes on their run
Daily  westbound  into the sun
And I know, as you do,
That  there is no one who 
Wouldn’t give his rice bowl wood and hard 
Or his party membership card
Or her position as third wife in the tent
Or her work in the kraal, lifelong spent,
To board that moving craft
As a drowner boards a life-raft.


Watch her slip the bond.   Unbound,
She goes where freedom is found.

Prima ballerina now she’ll dance
Gaily gaining speed she’ll start to prance
Leaping up the air will free her swift
Graceful strength not seen but felt in lift
Two wings full spread to soar in pride
Shimmering sheen of pure pearl
Diminishing sight, the freedom girl
Fast bound to America by knots untied.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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