Poem: The acacia tree is not silent
It’s not an ordinary story
It’s the story of sorrow
The acacia tree stood alone in pain
No single tree in the vicinity
Not even grass grew nearby
Only the hot desert sand
Kept blowing away his tears
At night, slapping him with cold hands
Piercing him with tiny bullets of sand
The acacia tree has seen so many tears
Ooze from his barren skin
Only to be licked dry by the evil ants
That waited in his lap
Offering no consolation
Preying on his loneliness
Alone in the dark
He stood with the desert
A silhouette of life
A monument of time
Covered in thick scales of pain
Years of loneliness, tears and sorrow
After witnessing the genocide
Of his own kind
Men with axes
Mowing down his friends
His family and all of his kind
Leaving him behind
To bear the pain
Finally
Blowing out a huge hole
In his ailing heart
Apparently in a show of strength
A young man picked up his axe
And made a big cut
Inside his chest
It’s the story of years and years
Of deforestation
A single generation of human beings
Clearing away his blood (sap) line
In a matter of days
Wiping away his father, mother and children
Thousands of years of grooming, breeding and caring
Destroyed in a heart beat
He still weeps today
For his long lost tribal land
His piece of paradise
Wiped away by savages
It’s true
Trees have a heart
A long memory
And a short piece of advice
You reap what you sow
Mankind will have their day in the court of justice
For all the years of havoc
From Amazon to Sahara
All the deaths (trees)
Are on their hands
You have sap (blood) in your hands
©
Kenneth Maswabi
(13-06-2020)
0.00 ORPLE
AMOUNT DONATED
Be the first to donate