ODE TO THE CHARADE: ZIMBABWE

A sham, bloody deception,
The bounding, white army chanted.

              Undemocratic, unparalleled injustice,
                  The tardy (nay, tacky), black army chorused.

Unrivalled travesty, perfect ambiguity,
The International community whimpered.

               But the black man stood, unstung,
                   The virulent words falling on barren ears.

“Keep your noises to yourselves,”
He advised the white and black alike.

           The bandying of coloured words ensued,
              All parties pulling the frayed reins.

Just before the snap of the frayed joints,
The black man cleared his sooty throat:
“If thou deemest yourselves clean enough,
Be the first to hurl disjointed pebbles!”

The white and black armies cast unfurled glances,
And voluntarily retreated to their murky hovels.