This is a repost of poem by a Zimbabwean friend of mine who wrote this a year ago. It is no less valid or less meaningful than it was then. It not just a poem but a fable. When you read it you’ll understand and hopefully pause for a moment to let it sink in.
Credit to Jess Drury of the Jessaster Chronicles. Originally posted here.
You are gorgeous - Replete with blossom: Purple, yellow, red. Bougainvillea tangles in Careless clusters And jasmine perfume hangs in the air as night falls. Skies are hazy blue And soporific sun lulls us Into feeling Everything is OK. Sounds of the city rise: Chatter and laughter and Business as usual And a red-gold light-snake Weaves its way through Jacaranda-ed streets. Your beauty is a curse Permitting men, Believing that they own you, To exploit and abandon and Numb themselves to The ragged child begging cents Under the purple rain And the thousand thousand Stomachs sleeping hungry. We patch our pockmarked roads Like we patch our integrity And our pockets And our make-a-plan spirit: Plastic surgery disguising Ugly Truth.