Through The Smoke

Through the smoke
He jot down the perfect notes
With gas mask on his mouth
Utterance delivery are so foul
Dismiss apartheid a war task
Anger to the hoods makes no sense
To make that Rand we slave for cents
Rubber bullets to the flesh pains
Loose of houses budget constrains
Our street obscured by anger
Its not black on white but black on black regime
We not safe, personal vendettas are displayed we in danger
Our blindness tempered with the cause
After so much sweat and tears I thought
No dreams but fears and verdict of trials at courts
Energy waisted, the battle lost
Blood spilled, Families mourn
Depart to exile
Warrants follow our paths for life
Years off, return as veterans
Not all of us but few of us
Some are labeled informants
Yet we fought the same struggle
And we still don’t have a home on these lands
Bitter souls are the hardest to handle.



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