Cradle Poem by Khumo Mhlanga

Diamond-canopied
Blood running gold
Crude wealth
Emancipated hands not ready
Is it all too much for us?

“Deepest, darkest”...pseudonym
Mysterious, lush & passionate
That’s her REAL allure
Adventurers scream: “See how good I make her look? ”
Opposite is true
She lends you credibility
Applause in the eyes of the world
Perceived saviours

Can a wounded mother feed her children?
Possible for a violated woman to open herself to repeated exploration?
What is left when you take more?
No gratitude…only scathing skepticism for what you’ve spawned
Selective amnesia;
Truth buried

Cradling greatness
She was too good for you
Useful when she couldn’t say no
Now your weapons finish what you started
Her young blind to their plight
Their desperation echoed in gunfire

Africa, these tears are for you…