30 degrees celcious,
the sun blazed from the sky
Their skins weary and tired
they slumbered off under the graveyard shadows
deep and unaware of their unconscious
mockery to the boring nap
of the dead……
who cemented for good under the graves
or maybe they see nothing different here.
For even in the graves,
their inequality still reigns
as haves and have not's graves stand tall
at Maitland's graveyard.
The wealthier are burdened
by heavier layers of expensive stone statues……
skillfully decorated crucifixes
Their poor counterparts
hardly bear the light wooden … and nearly rotting crucifixes
Meant to keep their graves alive
To keen eyes of a few sympathizers.
But who cares?
for the inequality
at Maitland graveyard
has simply taken after the lifestyles of its inhabitants
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem