For A Dead African - Poem by Josh Young
We have no heroes and no wars
only victims of a sickly state
succumbing to the variegated sores
the flower under lashing rains of hate.
We have no battles and no fights
for history to record with trite remark
only captives killed in eyeless nights
and accidental dyings in the dark.
Yet when the roll of those who died
to free our land is called, without surprise
these nameless unarmed ones will stand beside
the warriors who secured the final prize.
Comments about For A Dead African by Josh Young
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda