A rainbow nation and a pot of gold.
The promise they had yearned for
Since times of old.
And the people Cheered
And the people danced;
A new life was being born.
A life of better chance;
A life no more forlorn.
But corruption smashed their pot
And stole the gold;
Warped and twisted the rainbow
And tore the fabric of her soul.
Shoes worn out,
Tears cried out,
They turned and began to shout,
Rampaged and stormed.
Black clouds of smoking anger
Filled a sky once bright.
Even the rain wouldn’t fall
Through that distorted, mutated pall.
SEE MORE POEMS BY SHARON HEANEY STANSFIELD