Rain angrily spitting against my window,
Tears of these times
sounds of social grime,
Ignoring humanitarian
heinous crime,
Words twisted
witnesses resist it,

My childhood companion,
My weekly global communion,
It becomes my worldly window,
Shielding me from the imploding carnage below
what a welcome, momentary historical freak show!
A country burning
emotions simmering stirring
in the seismic hotpot of clashing cultures,
My teenage years warped by a racial chord
amidst the political cauldron
damaged children,

moulded by shared historical glue,
My people ousted, left with brittle pride,
Another teargas canister!
Nowhere to hide,
apocalyptic murmuring,
Disbelief, authorities maiming
children wailing,
Reagan steering a sustained superpower,
Thatcher not relishing her finest hour,
Her subjects equally raging
Gorbatjof a political lark
branded with a fiery mark,
P.W. Botha spitting rhetoric
a miserable parliamentary mimic!
Voices echo words burn,
Fallen fascist wall breaking in Berlin,
Global politics entombed by clashing critics,

Constantly reporting political marketing,
World wondering why all this racial suffering?
British protesting against colour division,
Only we understand the true mission
of our country on a declining doomed journey,
Unrealistically plotting a pure, unblemished yearning,
South Africa in a smoldering spiral,
I myself feverishly searching your printed pages
for transparent answers yet still nothing,
One sided minds divided
the racial sting,

Suddenly an instrumental dubious being!
School days become haunting untold tales
bombarded with tear-filled gas guilty or not,
Vehicles stoned
the city in flames,
Lessons cancelled again intellectual strain,
Final exams written with military protection,
Windows shattered protesters angered,
Education disturbed stirred choked,
The country shudders
shivering mothers,
You awaits words offering
fleeting momentary escape
but what about the murders?
Tensions shatter expected conventions,
Thousands protesting the West not investing,
Messages twisted innocent children arrested,
The eighties bleeding out,
Our lives a riotous roller coaster,
No end in sight such military might,
Table Mountain covered in aching ash,
Solutions seemingly crushed,
Education still the priority,
Poisonous politics to remain the authority,
Tears painting my fears,
Faith guiding me
country failing me,

My literary tool
our freedom suppressed
Apartheid to wither and die
in its purified nest!

Author’s Note:  YOU is one of the largest family magazines in South Africa.

Don Beukes is an ex teacher of English and Geography; born, raised and educated in Cape Town, South Africa in the last two decades of Apartheid. He writes about social injustices, politics, nature, the miracle of life, spirituality, womanhood, adoption, authoritarianism and many other themes affecting our global village. He hopes to inspire others to adjust their moral compass when necessary in an ever-changing global melting pot. Visit his web page to connect to his social links and explore his literary world. Read other articles by Don, or visit Don's website.