Congrats with pats on our backs
For sweats will no longer
Bead our tired brows
And dust will never again
Stain our calloused palms

For we have struck gold
Only its colour is black
Mirroring our state of mind
Not the colour of our skin

We hoped that by refining
The black gold, our hearts
Will also be refined
But the more we refined it
The cruder our hearts became

We bled mother earth
She gave us gladly
Devoid of any “if”
But in our charitable self,
We gave back to the earth
The blood of our brothers

The once little spark
We had hoped will light
Our way out of this dark
Of endless impoverishment

Has been fanned by our greed
Fanned into an inferno
That has consumed us all
And scorched the earth
That has served us so well.

RT