and the one legged man dreamt at
cecilia
his prosthesis may perhaps be repaired
he probably wont get pressure sores anymore
some socks …
come winter
he remembers a phantom leg
and the excruciating pain
more than that day
shot by
apla members
he still doesn’t understand
why they didn’t kill him
why they shot him, a black pastor
why they laughed at the end
why is liberation so precious now.
Poem and Drawing by Amitabh Mitra
APLA was the armed wing of Pan African Congress
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