CUBA I hear your cries, O beloved ones, over the waves of the turbulent waters. As I stare into the mist of a new born day, I see the pain and suffering of my brothers. Peering out at me from an invisible boundary, where freedom no longer dwells, Are the agonized faces of my country’s oppressed, living each in their own personal hell. Cuba is a place of rare beauty to behold, of towering mountains, lush forests, and sand. The morning mists rising up from the rich sweet earth, masks the terror that covers the land. Fear hangs o’er the land like a cold dark shroud. People walk softly now, with abated breath. For to speak out against their oppression, would bring nothing but a painful death. As the vision then fades, I ponder their fate, How can I right something, oh so wrong?. I am free, but I am moved by their bondage, for they can’t sing my freedom song. As I bow my head in the silent of the moment I send out into the universe my heart felt plea. To have compassion for those who are wrongly oppressed and to set my people free. Written for my Cuban facebook friend Al by Surely Be 2001
Posted on: Mon, 04 Nov 2013 11:17:09 +0000
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