The Spear: Poem
A poem about the recent events following 'The Spear'.
Cut through the ancient acrylic and peeled off the paint
Paint that for decades immaculately sealed and hid the cracks,
Cracks the nation assumed sealed, now revealed and lay bare on the wall.
Deep in the hearts of people, its stab creating an unbearable pain
Even the legal eagle couldn’t fly and just let the rivers open wide.
The laughter cracking like the African thunder through the plains
From those who stood at an angle.
Laughter and tears mixing together in a pot of stew
Where cooking stones are thrown and slurred from wall to wall.
An inquisitive toddler tumbled and raised the questions.
Did we kiss and make up, did we put our weapons down?
And quietly continue fighting and loathing each other more.
Did we open doors to our neighbours and invite them in?
And continue building high impenetrable walls disguised as roses.
Did we stop pointing guns and throwing spears?
And revert to the more potent finger pointing.
Did we come together as one and paint ourselves in one colour?
And remain separated like the rainbow colours at the end of the rain.
Outside, across the Atlantic and wide oceans, smiles are
Appreciating the one we have become and the bonds we have built.
Inside, we are small sand granules, each blown its own way by the wind.
Our cement has gone dry and holds water no more.
No more bricks to be build.
Even the builder deserted his tools and retired home.