A poem on the apartheid in Africa.
This is a purely fictional although based on truth, poem.
This poem was based on the movie catch a fire and is not about 'my' children as i do not have any.Thank you for your time in reading this.
My children won’t grow up,
They came in and stormed our people,
They killed my poor sweet, sweet Lucy
And they murdered my strong tough Bernard,
Without an apology, they shoved me out of the house and onto the street,
Without a home without a man and with out my only children
They took me in for torture after the bomb went off,
I had no alibi,
They nearly killed me I wish they had,
They found the bomber, they let me go.
The bomber was never seen again.
That could have been me, I wish it was.
I joined the resistance.
They killed my children, they took my home,
They nearly took my sanity, they must have taken all of it.
For years I fought back, then our message got across,
Although I didn’t get my children back.
Not even an apology,
Not even a word of comfort
Not a single thought was directed my way,
For the death of my children, when the whites took them away.
They will never grow up,
They will never know their history
Why oh why were they taken?
My Lucy, My Bernard
Goodbye sweet children,
We will meet again