Troublemaker We demonstrated to resist The old white men of state. “He’s just a bloody terrorist,” Said dad, “He kills, he maims. He’d hate To leave his five-star gaol Or see the loath’d colonialists fail: It’d rob him of his cause. A terrorist stays out of power And leaves those dull political chores To those who work. Now, every hour They come in droves to Joburg’s squat Or southern farms, their homes forgot. The money’s good; if life’s so bad They’d work in Mozambique or Chad. There’s no one forcing them to stay They could just up and go away.” And so my dad summed up this traitor, Comparing him to one who later Lent his face to Occupy; A fine redemption for the Guy. And so, with Robert, Charles and co., Nelson could have led to more Repression, hatred, death, but no; Released, he stepped onto the shore Across from Robben Island’s wall And looked around and called on all Who raged, yet loved this frightened land To close their ranks and hand in hand Not merge, but share their beating colours And curve up high in one broad arch
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