Leaves Poem by Gert Strydom

I had never thought
that I would meet artisans
living on the street.

I found a welder, mechanic,
a jack-of-all-trades
and master of many and some
and even an electrician or two

and with my degree
couldn’t get a contract
and neither could they

and destiny shatters lives,
letting people blow around
like autumn leaves
being discarded by society

as work had been reserved,
not by merit, qualifications or experience
but by the colour of skin
and affirmative action
they call the demon
(the new in thing)
that has been released

and I wonder if God
hears the sad songs
flowing from guitars,
falling like leaves
in tragic melodies
and if ever a new tomorrow
would rise for the oppressed
and if ever they will be blessed?

[Reference: Leaves by Lisa Zaran.]