Cry The Beloved Cape Flats

Cry The Beloved Cape Flats

As the wind blows
The white flag whimpers
Interwoven fibres of white
Become a metaphor for peace
But all we see are lives left in pieces
Lives contorted by death
In pieces these lives lay
It is apparent that peace has-
Long since left this place
Cry my beloved Cape Flats

The white flags blow solemnly
Saturated soggy, it is drenched in blood
This flag doesn’t glide like Aladdin’s carpet.
Nor sweep like a fighter jet
No
It limps aimlessly in the wind

The Cape Flats refuses to take the-
Gall and vinegar offered by our government
They know this offer of peace
Comes from a bloodstained hand.

War was supposed to be confined to oil rich countries
Out of reach of the common folk
Out of reach of those who Inhabit
These dull squares of grey.
Incorrectly so…
The Cape is at war with its own.

Cry the Beloved Cape flats.