Shadows

THE PERSECUTION

19 THE PERSECUTION The children suffer in the sun hawking, They suffer in the rain harvesting for the next trip Yet the large ships dock day in day out doing business With their country. Parents toil day and night, barely able The family to sustain on niggardly stately wages. They wonder at the acres of tea They wonder at the acres of banana They wonder at the acres of cocoa They wonder at the acres of palm kennel They wonder at the acres of bleeding rubber trees They wonder at thousands of timber loads Rumbling past in defiance of the local population. They hear of their nation trading in international markets, Yet their harvest, their reward, is always poverty. Some trek miles the cab fares to save, Others struggle with wobbly cars they cannot maintain, Not with four full tanks of petrol worth a month’s salary Yet they hear of SONARA producing oil Only to witness on occasions a parade of expensive cars, Purposeless escort motorcycles: the flamboyant entourage Of a worthless prince, even as his people Suffer in the midst of plenty. This government is useless; all it does is waste And never an account render to a frightened lot deficient of Its rights in the face of legalized pilferers; To thirst even with the rain, and despite the manna starve? This persecution will end, yes it will! ...