Galleh,
 
This is indeed another tear-dripping poem. There weren’t any people but a trial from the lord. Now that you asked the Lord, most knowledgeable, I am too little a dot to put my puffs.
 
In one of yours poems, you said “We remain defiant.”  That was an addressing to the “Men of Stone.” I long since gave my verdict that the Malcolmarians cannot be wrong by their “all means necessary” philosophy.  For, tyrants of all kind will never give it up just like the snap of a finger. You have to demand in full what belongs to you-your freedom and liberty.  It is you that has to pronounce your independence. It is you that has to denounce torture.  That’s why Stevo Biko  and Walter Susulu are still standing tall. 
 
But thank you any ways. You made this Friday a long day for us. I hope you come here and share with us back once an answer is seen.
 
Regards,
Yero. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
> From: [log in to unmask]> To: [log in to unmask]; [log in to unmask]> Subject: [>-<] What can we do...?> Date: Fri, 23 Nov 2007 07:56:40 +0000> > [ This e-mail is posted to Gambia|Post e-Gathering by "Baba Galleh Jallow" <[log in to unmask]> ]> > > > What can we do...?> > What can we do, Dear Lord> When dark clouds gather> In the belly of our eyes> Waiting to burst into streams of pain> And drown our souls in seas of bondage?> Do we bend our heads like weary Atlas> And carry the weight of this heavy world> Or raise our hands to deflect the blows> And remain tall in a world of dwarfs?> > What can we do> When evil forces wielding> Machetes sharp and deadly> Run after us in this world of waking dreams?> Do we run and hide in spaceless huts> Where destitute children with parched tummies> Gasp in surprise and have us stay?> > What can we do> When powerful forces close their hooded eyes> Pretend in the world of thorns all are roses> Want us to believe that fire is water?> Do we wonder what went wrong and why we cry> Why gloom now gnaws at our shriveled dreams> And nightmares are our stock in trade?> > What can we do, Dear Lord> When the past is lost in the present dust> When the future looks dry as the thirsty desert> And above us ravenous vultures fly> Waiting to swoop and grow so fat> On our remains when we go down?> Do we hope and pray and wait for angels> Or fight these demons> That want to kill our collective spirit> That seek to jail our collective future> That threaten us with collective doom?> > What can we do, Dear Lord> Do we hope> That someday soon> Your mighty hand> Will strike these demons down?> Or do we shout and cry> To your mighty heavens> And crash or fists into the face> Of these hideous devils> To let them know> We do not bow?> 
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