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Gardens Of Tears
I have watched them
stroll from their native land
with sack cloths around their waists
holding tools of despair
on the shoulders of their fate
i heard them gating
leaving the snow land
to lay camp in the fields so wet
dragging their horrors along
onto the plains of their pain
Black or white;
humanity is stuck
here in the gardens of tears
Africa is a cell, the world a hell
with flames of cancer, the chains of fate
poem
by
Timothy muggaga
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