South+Africa+Poem

Separation in South Africa

And here we stand, But not quite yet hand in hand. We’re on opposite sides of the barb-wired fence And neither can cross over without shedding blood, or tearing skin, or searing pain.

Our brothers brought us to this place years ago, Hoping we could break the trend of hatred That defines our existence. But the lion in his den will not go down without a fight, And the stormy ocean current brews up destruction in its path, Terrorizing the pristine coastline, and leaving chaos in its wake. This land mirrors our battles and timeless plight, and the scars of our never-ending struggle for co-existence.

The sign in the sand still stands strong Reading: White persons only. Will the color of my skin muddy the water, Dirty the sand? Why am I defined by the color of my skin, When the blood coursing through my veins is the same blood That pumps through a white man’s heart. We were born brothers, and created enemies. But maybe one day the lion will share its den with a brother from another pride.