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238 In these fissures Clarity R. Mapengo In the stone cold silence The irony is that millennial’s mind Annealing as she has become A battered maestro Incinerated in a perennial furnace Days and years have riddled through The reeks dragged from the past Have become nauseating She must escape before she is reduced to ashes Stuck in a trance Past the smoke She sees the many nations The many tribes Carved in a persimmon bark There once was Hate and cruelty Dripping off the bark The pitchfork of superiority Span in hands Carving even more fissures In these fissures Blood trickled Tears of those in torment Sweat of those that fought Some to win the pitchfork Others to smear a healing gum Cementing the wounds Mending the tainted bark of humanity 239 The persimmon bark today Still in a darker shade With plenty of fissures She knows she must keep on moving upward She must not allow a rotten stinky past To keep defining her She cannot allow herself to become The ash tree oozing a poisonous sap Dragging her back to hell In our different tribes In our different colours In our different nationalities In our different tongues We are but the persimmon bark Unusual and unique beings These blocks built us This past brought us here Let love keep peeling off our rough edges To bring out our sunshine ...


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Related ISBN
MARC Record
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
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