Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
Soweto Blues
I'm standing on that long road in Soweto
the past is coming back in flashes
I see them coming at me
hundreds of boys and girls
they are no thread
they have no guns
they dance, they sing
they protest against inferior education
in the language of the oppressor
they shout, they laugh aloud
as children use to do
they are no tread
they have no guns
the they face a wall of
unconditional hatred
a wall of khaki uniforms
and a choking cold silence
the first shots are fired
'popping' sounds that kill young lives
the thirsty earth drinks blood
the air is filled up with cries
and childish weeping
the handful of sand I hold
keeps it's painful secret
they were no thread
they had no guns
they were black and dreaming
of a future in freedom
Written by Frieda Groffy
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