Rites Of Passage Poem by Gert Strydom

In the early winter frost lies white,
it almost looks like snow that is falling
and changes do come without a limit
where it falls on some people

and without any teargas or rifles
a lot of highly qualified white people are without work
while unstoppable the government does leverage it laws down
while no police force is stopping the murders and robberies

and driven to the utmost, without a income or food
some fire the last shots at themselves and others drink poison,
or want to hang on the branch of the nearest tree
while the slight hope remains that God does know about everything

and at universities no prayers is said to Jesus Christ,
new teachings run rive at theological seminaries
as if the whole Bible is a myth and the truth is missing from it,
faith is placed as an experience in the spiritual world,

revolts break out constantly at these learned places
where black students do not want to pay for their classes
and they tear down and destroy as if nothing can stop them,
as if they are expressing their own will on everything and everybody

and now a person does wonder how peace can still prevail,
when daily people are tortured by criminals and do die,
when everything around us do become black and somewhat dark
with the unobserved coming of the nearing destruction or is it perdition.

© Gert Strydom