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Sunday, 10 April 2011

some poetry

as it's sinday and all, some poetry, by one: benjamin zephaniah

is call independence...

no house
no money
no milk
no honey
but dis land is ours.

no bricks
no mortar
no private water,
no roads
no signs
no enemy mines,
no work
no play
just dried up clay,
but what?
dis land is ours.

that little piece of sun is ours
we borrow clouds from neighbours,
we got air
we got we
no industry
but we are free
and asking you no favours.

and who are you anyway?
what is your bank?

what is a gun?
what's meant by your rank?

why do you have
that lust in your eyes?
your holy book says
you're a typical lie.

no sweat
no pain
no material gain
but what?
dis land is ours,
no wars to do
dat's right
no you.

sail on
dis land is ours.

good, innit?

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