Night Of Many Cold Rains Poem by Phillip Nine Mafunga

Sat all alone in a flood of nondescript emotions
The orange ball of the sun dipping into the horizon unknown
Decapitated heads bobbing up and down the stone dry and sordid political streets
Headless torsos of those of us who would have been, strewn all over our economic highways
Dimly lit streets that pale away into the wet darkness
Heady eyes all around the centre of our social comfort
Streets kids fumbling their way; soaked to the bone
With no place to lay their sordid selves, cracked feet and putrid sores all over their unwashed bodies
Their parents fobbed off with the fallacies of freedom and patriotism
That watched as hospitals, schools, and factories flood with inefficiencies
Let thugs steer out lifesaving boats
The night is long; the night is wet and very dark
Wet winds of poverty still blowing strong; we wake up or we all swim our way to hell
PHILLIP NINE MAFUNGA
6 September 2020