Rain in June          

Rain keeps pelting down the soaked football field.

To the adverse weather my boy and his mates yield.

The park appears stifling and stilled

With hopes dashed and dreams killed.

Why does it always rain when we are ready to play?

God doesn’t seem to care no matter how hard I pray.

My boy grumbles under the shade as he continues to dribble

Trusting that his gripe may be able to achieve the impossible.

The football fields used to be booked out the past years

With throngs of protesters giving out chants and cheers.

Gone were the days when we saw seas of candles without fail

With most leaders now put behind bars denied release on bail.

My boy has whined about joining the vigil

As sitting still in the storm has made him ill.

His eyes opened when he saw a brave man halting a tank

But it was so implausible that he thought it was a prank.

I hope you would come to know the truth my Son

though iniquities seem to prevail under the Sun

As in the Bible it is clearly written:

“The righteous shall never be shaken

but the wicked will have their land taken.”

The rain has no merciful signs of stopping

While I see tears from my son’s eyes dropping.

Daddy Let’s go home and play.

We can come and train another day.

But I know the rain will come and stay

Each and every year on the same day

To remind us of the price the students paid

For justice and freedom down their lives laid.