Tears That Wet The Ground Vongai Mlambo
Dive into the river snaking across gogo’s yard Water molding my arms and legs
A tender hug plunging me into its depths Releasing control, I choose to sink
Emerging only to realize it is a puddle
And I am sullied by the filth of promises unkept Lies like plastic beads Weigh down my lungs
Each cough a dust of coal Blackening my hands They tell me
Drills piercing fragile soil is “development”
And with an economy like mine, I should be grateful for it Each time they strip the landscape dry My people cry
Your black gold is worthless We have no use for it
Climate change meetings are a popularity contest
Secret societies where the password is “developed nation” Men in black smog suits Debate till they are blue Say nothing of equity.
The problem is not climate change It is the ability of privileged
To hold rain clouds hostage
Leaving the cracked ground cowering at its knees
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