She stands tall.
Shaken by the regime - all the way to a fall.
Still standing firm in her roots,
striving against the cabinet in suite.
She stands tall.
Her roots being hacked at and poisoned,
yet she does not fall.
She does not fall.
Insults hit her heart,
yet she does not begin to stall,
but her heart begins to fall.
She does not fall.
Now she stands taller
like an elegant self-conscious queen,
but with the heart of a mother that no one has ever seen.
Slowly breaking,
She falls.
The abuse has become too much.
Just to name a cause;
It was you with your helpful, root unearthing touch.
RIP Mama Afrika.
