Packing up and leaving,
yet, you were so young,
Off to an adventure
Off, to lands so far.
Leaving behind your family
and everything you know
Going to darkest Africa
Going to where, you don't know
Speaking foreign languages
These young men were brave
Not for them the comforts of home
Not for them the drab.
Africa in the 50's was
just the place to be.
Work was always available
Even for you and me.
Even through the 60's,
70's and 80's too, you
never considered returning
this now was home to you.
You are the true African
for in your heart you knew
Never to return to Italy
was what you chose to do.
We who remain here now
Wonder at this choice,
For even as I write this
Decisions to leave are made.
It is no longer friendly
And no, it's not my race
It's got to do with criminals
And with the race for space.
The true frontier was conquered
By you, and those like you
Our frontiers now are different
Ours are all man made.
Oh how I wish for wisdom
Like yours when you were young
To know then what you wanted
To know where you would succumb.
Salagatle!
1 comment:
Very kewl poem and very applicable to my family. We came here in 1969, and the poem is applicable at this moment too. My dad (who said he would never leave) is thinking of emigrating to Jamaica if he gets the job there...and that was just thanks to Steph's carjacking...
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