Kaffir Lily

Father planted his dreams deep in the soil
Watered them daily with his hopes and aspirations
But it must have been his last attempt at something real
Grown from the hardship of ill intentions and desires

His dreams grew like lilies down on the edge of a continent
They could not see beyond the color of his skin for competence
But he watered his dreams slowly, waiting for the sun
To guide its rays over his potential and give him hope

My father was a kind man, too kind for the world he loved
He would sing of a world where more than dreams could be arranged
But he loved us dearly, we who robbed him of a noble life 
Perhaps that is why his heart hardened to silver and not gold

He had loved a flower so fiercely, it left no room for other things
My father dreamed so deeply he could not wake from dreaming
But when the world changed and the people now looked at him with glee
Being born in a drought, left him with no room for the rain of reality 

My father was a Kaffir Lily.

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