Against the gun

"Death to Apartheid", placards read
with vengeance angry men were led;
power was what these men sought,
with the young it would be bought.

And when they came unto the line
drawn by white men's ill incline,
the might of many finally stood,
chanting slogans for the good.

Some advanced still further on,
a thoughtless man began to run;
others followed thinking not
of what their actions would begot.

A shot rang out above the din,
more shots followed soon within;
bullets broke the rhythmic air,
reckless objectors fell everywhere.

On the border, dressed in brown,
bandits shot the marchers down;
white man turned his head away,
men of God began to pray.

Death was all around it seemed,
when it struck the people screamed.
Many felt the searing pain,
some of them won't feel again.

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Key Words : death, shot

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    This Poems Story

    The clash between soldiers and police when violent or peaceful protests during Apartheid is a very sad story. In all the mêlée of confusion, something is bound to happen. Although it might seem random, the tension would bring unprovoked action by all concerned.