In the African Plain
Must we touch the African plain
To hear small children cry
Brittle dry of dying rain
From someone else's sky
Beauty of land is blown away
Cold wind of an empty soul
Burning life from words they say
Leaving a speechless hole
We live in a faraway world
In models of untouched bliss
Flags of feelings tightly furled
There is no such world as this
A song is our freedom to cry
Soft as a butterfly wing
Strong like a dove to fly
To hear small children sing
We must feel the African plains
Hear life in the musical night
To know that never again
Can we close the door to light
Poetry by Adrian Wood
Read 475 times
Written on 2012-02-02 at 19:33
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