Cyclone Idai

What a bitter pill to swallow

Holding our head with both hands

Starring at the heavens in pain

Crying, crying and crying,

 

Is it our faulty
Is because of carefree attitudes

Is it because of incompetence?

Is it because of their recksness?

Is it because of me?

Is because of him?

Is it because of us?

 

Multitudes destroyed,

In the most horrific  peaceful, ways possible

So many questions than answers

Mindbogglingly touching

Deeply hurt and crushed in spirit

Was Disaster preparedness the best solution?

But who did it?

I ask who did it?

 

Lets not bark up the wrong tree

Who burnt Chimanimani’s candle at both ends

Who put Manicaland and Mozambiques' life?

Between the devil and the deep see,

Who did it?

 

When I play back the horrific motion pictures

I can see mass graves,

Elephantine mountains of debris

As God whispers to people in our pleasures,

Speaks in our consciousness

And shouts in our pains

In a loud way,

That made us understand why cyclones

Named after people

This poem is about: 
My community

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