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Poems . 
The Apartheid
by Aditi Dwivedy

I hate this time
Of being discriminated
Of being separated
Of the Apartheid

For three centuries
Three long centuries
The Whites have been here
Taking our own land from us

“Son, I need you to get milk”
My mama's voice cut through the bulls charging through my head
“Yes mama”
I reply taking my money

As I get put off my community
I see
Whites drink from beautiful luxurious water fountains
Blacks drink from dull, wooden ones

My angry thoughts come back
Like a flood
I think to myself
Why are we treated so different?
How are we different?

The doors of the store
Stare back at me
One is lavishly decorated
And one is rotting wood

The pretty door
Has a sign
Whites Only
It read
While the rotting wood
For Blacks Only
It red

Blinded by the sight
I am only seeing red
I walk through the door
For Whites

My chin is up
My chest proud
Shoulders square
Eyes forward
I look at every astonished face
In the eye

Everyone looks at me
I walk down the aisle
When a tap

You aren’t White
Says a man
You have not a single right
In any way
To go through that door
He says
I could turn you into the police

Then why don’t you
I said, looking at every purple laden White woman
Every perfectly groomed White man
Then at every
Filthy disgusting Black woman
And Black men in rags

You are lost
He says again
In his voice that rubs my skin raw
And crackles through my veins
We are going to give you a second chance
He says again

Everyone looks
And looks some more
Then turn
As though nothing had happened
I look at the dirty
Black men and woman
But their backs look back at me
In a sorrowful way

Bulls charge through my head
Storms thunder
Elephants stampede
The hungry tiger roars

I want to yell
Scream, kick, thunder
Yet all I can do
Is turn my back

Like the rest
Pretend one of the rare times
When a Black stands up for all
Never happened

As if the Apartheid
Was meant to happen
As if we truly are lower
As if we agree

My thoughts rage through me
As I pick up milk
With fists whiter than ghosts
Face redder than anger itself

Looking away
I notice outside
Through the window
On dirt, wet ground

An old newspaper
Nelson Mandela Arrested
Was front page

I think how no Black supported
My act of freedom
No Black supported
Mandela, when he went to jail

This will change
I knew
This will not go on
How long will the Apartheid last?
When in the world will people see
Blacks and Whites as equals?
When will everyone be united?

7-Feb-2016
 
Views: 7947
Exellent poem. Very apt description of the condition of Blacks during Apartheid. The poet's wonderment on the reaction of Blacks themselves to the treatment meted out to them is pathetic but real.
Mahesh Chandra Dewedy
Feb-11-2016
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