This White Hegemony

The Noon Gun is helluva loud Especially for someone under a PTSD cloud But it is part of who we are The reminder we were won in a war So no-one complains or objects about it As from those who live near could be expected Similarly the church’s bells The clang that breaks through decibels Pealing through the room and out the day A cause to pause, to be reminded to pray The overwhelming wave of sound when near A precious reminder of what we hold dear The Call To Prayer - part of your make-up as Capetonian Just last year under debate here in The District again A White Lady moved in and did complain An a whole community had to explain Though horribly that sufficed then and before That Lady I’m afraid is now backed by law So whatever your Narrative, make sure you’re clear Whatever ‘more’ this city offers, is of disregard, I fear A celebrated haven for the lowest of human trash This White hegemony, so mindless and crass That what matters to people can not matter at all Because they don’t matter to the City, by your call SP