Martin O'Neill Poems
What Price Literacy?
An extraordinary time you have waited
Quiet, in no kind of rush
You must be pleased now that it's over
Your time in the African bush
The grass stalks that rippled around you
The animals passing you by
The fierce yellow sun beating down
From the blue of your African sky.
When you finally burst into flower,
In blossoms of yellow and red
The eight year old girl who unearthed you
Couldn't read the notice that said
Minds cloaked in grey
They wander the battlefield
Weilding their blades
Of nonchalance, the battle lost.
The cry of the wounded, unheeded
Cut short by the bayonets
Of the grey ones
Used without emotion
Just a soupcon of a sneer.