Item 2183 - Poem "Snowflakes in the rain" by Paul McGagh

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ZA COM MR-T-7-6-2183

Title

Poem "Snowflakes in the rain" by Paul McGagh

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  • 2018-12-20 (Creation)

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Poem

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E-mail received from Mark Stewartess

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A poem named 'Snowflakes in the rain' dedicated to Nelson Mandela by Paul Mcgagh.

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snowflakes in the rain.

Kick him long enough and keep beating him down, he’ll end up insane. Bank on this, when we’ve finished with him the lawyer will be seeing snowflakes in the rain.

Point a finger at him, we’ve found someone to blame. An outsider in an insiders game. He’s faceless in here, one of the same, only good for seeing snowflakes in the rain.

The African Island named after a bird, he’s but a terrorist was dismissively heard. Locked away for three decades it’s where he must stay, he will have our throats cut why else would we treat him this way.

Tell it long enough it will become the truth, that’s the beauty of a lie. Just detain him year after year til he dies.

Twelve hours in a quarry the rest in a cell.
The limestone was useless, but day after day he was forced to keep chipping away. Hardened thugs put in the mix to add fear they became one over the sweat and the blood and the tears.

The world united against apartheids pain, they demanded give him his freedom, they say he can see snowflakes dancing in the rain.

With baited breath they unlocked his cage, knowing in his shoes they’d unleash all their rage. Forgive and forget for our children’s sake, they could never return what they had been so willing to take.

Truth, reconciliation and good will to all, the world watched in a trance as the frail man stood tall. Neither broken nor bowed, vengeful or mean, he couldn’t undo what was done nor unsee what was seen. The past is the past he would repeatedly say, we must come together as one, beginning today.

He was aloof and confided in few. All eyes descended as he grappled with everything new. Decades locked away had taken Its toll, he had his temper, and was both stubborn and loyal.

Though his humanity his radiance shined.
The brightest lights all drawn to his flame. Mandala the irrepressible, still catching snowflakes in the rain.

By Paul Mcgagh

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