Robbing us innocent folks at night in South Africa.

 


A hard day ends with a fight,

It's bedtime, and we now turn off the light,

Thinking of a good night's sleep that would make everything right,

But the heart races because imbeciles choose to rob our homes inside and out at night.

With security and police out of sight,

Anxiety builds stronger, reaching a grandiose height.

As much as we try to be polite,

These disturbed folks somehow feel deprived and think they're so bright.

Mental illness is a plague filled with power and might,

Dealing with them during the day and still facing them at night.

No progress in the community, with crime increasing and laws in need of a rewrite,

Simple solutions, yet the politicians would rather use taxpayer money for an unnecessary flight.

Shoot them, we find ourselves in trouble,
Kill them, and we are charged with murder,

But they attack us, and they escape easily; no justice enacted any further.

A psychiatrist for the government people,

This would be a lifesaver.

Police chief swings on vines while carrying bananas.

Start off small, silly man; why are you always in your pajamas?

Ooh ooh ah ah, that's the sonatas.

As we strive for peace in our stamina,

It's just like ice stolen and sold to the people in Antarctica,

So, why doesn't the "government" aid us in the nonsense we face in this country of South Africa?

Poet: Vynolyn Naidoo

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