Poetry International Poetry International
Gedicht

Outspoken

ABOARD THE FREEDOM TRAIN

ABOARD THE FREEDOM TRAIN

ABOARD THE FREEDOM TRAIN

Still inside the station waiting on the freedom train,
Its inspector came to check on our tickets – if we had paid.
Finally, my people shall be home amongst their relatives and peers,
They could hardly wait to see the city’s horizon slowly disappear into the distance,
It was one train with different classes, the luxurious was the first,
Then came the middle-class citizens, then the economy – that’s the worst
Not because of its occupants but mainly their conditions,
Where they were packed like animals, sweating like the steaming engines.
“All aboard!” That was freedom’s last call
The destination was DEMOCRACY, equality for all but a few,
The few being the masses in the last
That were disposable to benefit the upper-class
“Tickets... tickets please, ambuya (1) you did not pay!
Do you think you are going to get a FREE ride on the FREEDOM TRAIN?”
He can see she’s clearly sick, in need of some urgent assistance
“Amai! (2) I’m not a doctor, all I want from you is your ticket!”
So another passenger dies, for she could not afford
The medication for her ailments, so she succumbed to sores!
Across the gathered masses was the hovering of pain,
Another one of us departed from the FREEDOM train.

Mountains rolled and valleys passed the few that had the view,
Aboard this runaway train of passengers without a crew but the inspector,
They huddled, praying JUSTICE would prevail,
but lived within LAWS of physics, so were destined to de-rail!
A pregnant mother squirmed as her water broke in panic,
Hope was her unborn daughter but her birth was none but tragic.
She only saw the light of day minutes before the crash,
sucked back into a darkness with radiance everlasting!
Everyday the death toll rises from the freedom trains wreckage,
That never saw DEMOCRACY, but destined us to heaven,
Through a passage of pain and tribulation attached,
that only seems to affect those of us stuck in economy class,
If only the inspector started checking on the drivers,
there wouldn’t be this ugly scene of checking on survivors,
18 April 1980 (3) was the day we left the station,
aboard the FREEDOM TRAIN, but still haven’t reached our destination – FREEDOM!!!
Outspoken

Outspoken

(Zimbabwe, 1983)

Landen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten uit Zimbabwe

Gedichten Dichters

Talen

Ontdek andere dichters en gedichten in het Engels

Gedichten Dichters
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ABOARD THE FREEDOM TRAIN

Still inside the station waiting on the freedom train,
Its inspector came to check on our tickets – if we had paid.
Finally, my people shall be home amongst their relatives and peers,
They could hardly wait to see the city’s horizon slowly disappear into the distance,
It was one train with different classes, the luxurious was the first,
Then came the middle-class citizens, then the economy – that’s the worst
Not because of its occupants but mainly their conditions,
Where they were packed like animals, sweating like the steaming engines.
“All aboard!” That was freedom’s last call
The destination was DEMOCRACY, equality for all but a few,
The few being the masses in the last
That were disposable to benefit the upper-class
“Tickets... tickets please, ambuya (1) you did not pay!
Do you think you are going to get a FREE ride on the FREEDOM TRAIN?”
He can see she’s clearly sick, in need of some urgent assistance
“Amai! (2) I’m not a doctor, all I want from you is your ticket!”
So another passenger dies, for she could not afford
The medication for her ailments, so she succumbed to sores!
Across the gathered masses was the hovering of pain,
Another one of us departed from the FREEDOM train.

Mountains rolled and valleys passed the few that had the view,
Aboard this runaway train of passengers without a crew but the inspector,
They huddled, praying JUSTICE would prevail,
but lived within LAWS of physics, so were destined to de-rail!
A pregnant mother squirmed as her water broke in panic,
Hope was her unborn daughter but her birth was none but tragic.
She only saw the light of day minutes before the crash,
sucked back into a darkness with radiance everlasting!
Everyday the death toll rises from the freedom trains wreckage,
That never saw DEMOCRACY, but destined us to heaven,
Through a passage of pain and tribulation attached,
that only seems to affect those of us stuck in economy class,
If only the inspector started checking on the drivers,
there wouldn’t be this ugly scene of checking on survivors,
18 April 1980 (3) was the day we left the station,
aboard the FREEDOM TRAIN, but still haven’t reached our destination – FREEDOM!!!

ABOARD THE FREEDOM TRAIN

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