THE WAR CRIMINALS (Of Zimbabwe)



The yellow cowards creep at night
They’re full of fear, full of fright,
“Not much man!” describes them best
Their manhood surely is at rest.

Too cowardly to fight in the open
They’re more like eunuchs, than like men,
As dawn draws near, they all turn tail
At being men, they surely fail.

Too chicken to fight, by the light of day
At the first hint of sun, they run away,
As the morning comes, they take to flight
Too chicken-shit to stand and fight.

They creep at night, attacking farms
Doing evil and spreading harm,
Zimbabwe’s economy now is a mess
But these crotchless eunuchs can’t care less.

They’ll bankrupt Zimbabwe, if that’s what it takes
To spread their message of racist hate,
“All whites must die!” is their evil cry
They’re spreading terror, death, and lies.

Evil is their message, their only creed
Spreading destruction is all they need,
Zimbabwe’s fate is all but sealed
Unless super-apartheid can be repealed.

de Klerk was a saint compared to them
Mugabe spreads needless mayhem,
His country’s economy has fallen down
Due to the antics of this clown.

The UN is blissfully standing by
Watching as many thousands die,
“They’re only whites, so they don’t matter!”
Is the UN’s senseless chatter.

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

About this poem

In the 1970s and 1980s, I was one of the millions of whites around the world, who opposed and helped to bring down apartheid in South Africa. Imagine how betrayed I felt when the UN looked away while Robert Mugabe performed Super-Apparteid, murdering many thousands of whites. None of whom mattered, according to the UN, since they were only white.

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Written on February 14, 2009

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on July 19, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:06 min read
2

Quick analysis:

Scheme AABB XXCC DDAA XXEE XXFX GGHH IIJJ FFKK XXX
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 1,281
Words 223
Stanzas 9
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 3

Phil Roberts

I turn 65 on the 31st of January 2022. I love cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

All Phil Roberts poems | Phil Roberts Books

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