Grazing free amongst the trees
in the peace of all alone
a lumbering old elephant
looks forward, never back,
in his quest for nourishment.
The air is fresh and clean
away from concrete towers
where shadows come alive
and slink and slither silently
out into the streets.
Africa, South Africa, from whence doth garbage come that blows from dingy alleyways into the country air and settles in my nostrils the smell of evilness? Behind my back a whirlwind swirls remnants of the past across the sky into my life and onward to the future to settle there and procreate more garbage for the young. Africa, South Africa, where have the children gone who once played hide and seek amongst bushes, brambles, trees, and climbed up rocky outcrops happy and at ease? And Africa, South Africa, where change and turmoil reign you are today, indeed you are, a land that swallows children and regurgitates more crime to steal and kill the spark of hope I light most every day!
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