(after E. E. Cummings) <br /> <br />In the years when like some innocent lambs <br />boys were forced <br />by acts of John Vorster, PW, FW and Co <br />to the slaughter <br />of themselves but of mostly enemies; <br />death, shell-shock came <br />during the epoch of righteousness <br />of sister churches <br /> <br />with war raging in Namibia and Angola, <br />boys lost their souls, <br />where forever changed, by the killing; <br />trying to survive, <br />while generals, that are known, medals drew, <br />while commanding <br />from out of danger, from as far away as Pretoria, <br />in safety and bliss <br /> <br />while every John, Dick and Harry in their country’s love <br />fought fierce battles, <br />destroyed Soviet controlled Cuban / FAPLA divisions, <br />lost limbs, sanity, <br />were only wishing for tranquillity and peace, <br />they were sold out, <br />their bravery trampled, victories lied about as defeats <br />by a new government, <br /> <br />and some with degrees by affirmative action are jobless. <br /> <br />[Reference: “The Season ‘Tis, My Lovely Lambs” by E. E Cummings.]<br /><br />Gert Strydom<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-slaughter-of-the-little-lambs/
