Category: Writers Block
This is a poem that i wrote, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it.
750 miles to Pretoria
Stephen Bantu Biko, here you lye on the floor bound and chained.
You lye on the filthy floor slowly dying. Lying in your own waste, broken battered and bruised. breathing fast, foaming at the mouth.
barely conscious, unaware.
No one to care for you, no one to comfort you.
every bump you felt, every time the van lurched so did you.
Oh Biko, in your brief moments of lucidity did you cry out, or did you bare your pain silently like Christ, as he lay dying on the cross?You must have been thirsty, your swollen lips cracking and caped with dry blood.
they bring you water but you are much too weak, much too weak to swallow the water. much too weak to sit up.
But still on the dirty floor you lye.
was it minutes or hours. Were you aware of the passage of time?
Did you know that you weren't going to live much longer. was it your wish to be a martyr for The Struggle? Were you prepared for what your legacy was to be known for?
As you traveled those 750 miles, those 750 miles to Pretoria, naked and chained, in the back of a police van.
Powerful and interesting.
Wow. Powerful indeed. I like it!!!
He was a great man yes. i honor him as such. People don't understand why I use the name, but i think if they read this they will kind of understand what the poor man went through.
He was a great man yes. i honor him as such. People don't understand why I use the name, but i think if they read this they will kind of understand what the poor man went through.
Powerfull indeed. Good job.