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.