We loved them now not
When they went, we felt sorry,
For them we were scared,
For us, they moved on,
Sacrificed for us,
Hypocritically we shouted,
‘’Heroes are here, they’re back’’,
Some in coffin,
Some injured,
Some mental retard ate,
Said waaoh for the group,
But alone we ignored them,
Become happy being safe,
But ooh! Poor son of soil,
Their value ended there,
After retirement they’re nothing.
poem by Dickson Mseti
Added by Poetry Lover
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