Poetry

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An abyss,
Filled with nothing but nothing,
A smothering darkness,
Light
Non-existent
Like many that trod the soils of this place called earth.

Alone, they are waiting,
To be freed from this thing they call slavery.
Slavery!
Not the Blacks who were chained and not knowing their fate,
But they are enslaved by their lives.
A change is necessary before it’s too late.

Meaningless lives they lead,
But no one seems to know what they need.
Walking, they are, but when will their journey end,
There are many broken spirits that we must mend.
They are longing to be found,
But have they accepted the sentence to go six-feet underground?
Security they are seeking,
They express themselves in their speaking,
Words laced with profanity,
Marijuana has got them close to insanity,
Insecure - for love is not known to them,
Look at their faces – they are our men.

They are living without mothers
Mothers, who are too busy for themselves.
Fathers dissolving like the alcohol vapours,
Leaving their children to live like lepers.
Lives are slowly disintegrating,
While politicians in the House debating.

Wandering Spirits,
Confused,
Abused,
Refused.
This is the generation of our youths.

To the grave many of them were called,
For even death rejoiced at their fall.
Gun shots they so gallantly praised,
But it was that one bullet that shortened their days.
Envy, deception and strife,
Many of them, their lives taken by the blade of a knife.
In death the living mourn,
They are hoping that their souls were not lost.
They speak of the dead,
As they lay upon a rose bed.
These words they cannot hear,
Their salvation
I fear,
Has been lost, for they lived a life that many believed was beyond repair.

His words they refused to hear,
The life of a saint
This picture they could not paint,
For the way they lived was their constraint.
To live a life after death – in hell’s fire,
This could not be the life they desired.

He that is to be truly admired,
Is the one that is on fire
He recognizes that Satan is a liar,
God has lifted him up out of the mire,
And his life is now worthy of living.

He now has a new beginning,
To start giving,
Of himself
Something that was never done before,
Doing away with a past that is no more.
New seasons have come,
He now has the opportunity to hear “Well done”.

A mended spirit,
No more to be neglected,
He has entered the fold,
With a renewed soul,
For life is now his ultimate goal.

Anishka Deveaux
March 04, 2005

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