A freedom fighter
A respected man he is
A loved man he is
For his doings, for what he did
Yes he is a freedom fighter
He never stood and watched
He was part of them
Those who had hearts for the innocent people
But in the end he was a leader
He was the one who was punished
Punished for the wonderful things he did for the people
He did them with his power
Now he earn the people respect
They love him he’s their hero
He fought for them
He fought for people’s freedom
Yes he is our freedom fighter
He never gave up no matter what
They never got him down no matter what they did
He stayed away from home and family
Living in locked house for 27 years
Almost his man time in Roben Island
He is South Africa’s father
He is Africa’s father
He is the world’s father
He is every one’s father, a loved father
He is our freedom fighter
A special dedication to:
Mr. Nelson Mandela
Tata
poem by Alancia Lebogang Mogorosi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Freedom Fighter
You cant control me tell me what to do
Chained in mediocrity so I can be like you
I am not a statue not part of a machine
Im sick and tired of the whole routine
Calculate your future, computerise your past
Instant replay if its gone too fast
Take away my freedom, take away my home
Im only human but it might now show
Im not made of stone
Im a freedom fighter I got something to say
Im a freedom fighter get out of my way
Hide behind your politics, hide behind your rules
Tell me Im a man but you treat me like a fool
Its the same old story with a different name
You give us all a number and nothing changes
Out in the winter of a world upon its knees
Everyone is watching but no one sees
You cant take my freedom you know it is my right
If you try and stop me Im gonna fight
With all of my might
Im a freedom fighter and Im taking command
Im a freedom fighter and Im making a stand
Fighting for breath as the world gathers speed
Times running out for the things that I need
Im a freedom fighter I gotta take a stand
Im a freedom fighter, yeah thats what I am
Im a freedom fighter I cant take it no more
Im a freedom fighter no no more
Im a freedom fighter but Im not afraid
Im a freedom fighter get out of my way.
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I'll Have My Dream
I read about MLK junior
His dreams in Birmingham and on the streets
I followed the words and tone clear
Still I hear his cry for a just society I his s[speeches
He fought for the proletariat with his life
Took a bullet for people he knew
Not in person but for problems shared
A great man who’ll live forever
Should have been his epitaph
But as for me and my house- me myself and I
Shall bid time waiting for my dream
Up in the mountains in skies blue
My dream shall come from
I beg it be released
So that I can change destiny
Of Kenya, my Africa
I’m not Obama getting a dream from his father
Not a freedom fighter forty years ago
Dreaming for a free Kenya, Africa
By their blood freedom was recaptured
But lo! The betrayal that is the aftermath
Impotent post-independence ashes are about
Kenya my Kenya please forgive me your son
Africa my Africa inspire me
I need a dream now to save all
Children dying hungry learning not ABC
poem by Kelvin Karani
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A Symbol For Peace, Freedom And Justice
To want freedom and justice for his people was Mandela's only crime
And his freedom taken from him and in jail he spent his prime
But the first democratically elected President of South Africa not one to hold a grudge
His former oppressors he's forgiven he does not condemn or judge.
The now ex President of South Africa is a legend in his time
His potrait painted by famous artists and he's inspired the bards to rhyme
His fame has spread around the World far distant from his Country's shore
And the name of Nelson Mandela destined to live forever more.
He was wrongfully imprisoned yet a grudge he does not hold
And his life well documented and his story often told
In his old age quite a hero and so many he inspire
And a fellow like Mandela is so easy to admire
One of the few inspirational figures in the history of human
kind
And his equals are not many people like him hard to find
A symbol for peace, freedom and justice he is one who can forgive
And the name of Nelson Mandela forever is destined to live.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Father Is A Freedom Fighter
Soldier, Soldier, cries the child
My father is a freedom fighter
He is fighting for me and my family
He is giving his life for his home land
The sun rises and falls on him
Our enemies have fallen in numbers as dawn comes
We will be free form our enemies
We will have much to celebrate soon
We don't eat even in the hour of noon
The reason? that our hearts are with father
We will be like him when we grow up
Our land will be at the top
We will earn respect form the on lookers
And as a child, I cry for other fathers
poem by Shelley Cornelius Phillips
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gandhi Jayanthi
You won the hearts of Indians globally –
O beloved Father of India!
You stood for truth, non-violence totally,
And gave the freedom we enjoy.
Born in Porbandar on October two,
Mohandhas Karamchand Gandhi,
You stood against odds of all sorts
To win innumerable patriotic hearts.
About you, Albert Einstein said,
‘Generations to come will scarce believe
that such a man as this had walked
upon the earth in flesh and blood.’
You were a mediocre student;
You were so timid and too shy;
You went to England to learn law,
To South Africa to practice!
The racial state of Africa
Had influenced your mind aright
To enter politics and fight,
And born were Satyagraha, Ahimsa!
What mattered was not skin-color,
But pangs of hunger and dolor!
What mattered was not caste or race,
But love of mankind and a smiling face!
You loved India’s poor peasantry;
You fought the British valiantly;
You led the nation brilliantly,
And won the freedom gallantly!
You fasted for the people’s sake;
You kept the freedom cry awake;
You didn’t use things of British make,
And made salt boldly with your rake!
Happy Birthday Gandhiji!
Though dead, you’re live in Indian hearts!
Your noble sacrifice on earth
Will shower Indians immense mirth!
You loved to pray to God always!
You trod the land by feet most days;
You kept the Freedom Struggle’s pace,
And won the battle against race!
Jai Hind! Jai Bharat!
Jai Gandhiji!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-10-2009
poem by John Celes
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A rare pearl in the deep Indian Ocean
Oh! My tiny precious Island
Is this a Shark-fin soup
Eat by the Boss and his Kith & Kin?
* Still I respect though he's a terrorist or a freedom fighter
Anyway he loved his people.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Letter My Father Will Never See
if only one last time i could see you. if only one time i could tell you what i think. if only one time i could say what i've been thinking for all these years. if only i could just not care. if only it didn't hurt so much. if only i could say that you dont matter. if only i could tell you. if only one time you'd listen. if only you knew. if only i could tell you your an ass. if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through. if only you were around to say good job.
as a father you have failed. as a father you were never there. as a father you never held me. as a father you never cared. as a father you never gave me praise. as a father you never brushed my hair. as a father you didn't teach me about life. as a father you didn't teach me how to care. as a father you never showed me love. as a a father you you let me cower in the corner. as a father you scared the hell out of me every night of the week. as a father you came home drunk. as a father you didn't put me to bed. as a father you never gave me a hug as a father you were my worst night. however, for some reason i cant fathom your my father. and for the same reason i cant fathom how you earned the title when being a father was one thing that you never were and dont seem to want to be.
Wise Child
When they called the role next morning
His was among the missing names.
So many of the Bravest
had perished in the flames.
That firefighters’ widow
Had special reason to be sad:
The baby she was carrying
might never know his Dad.
New Yorkers mourned the fallen,
even as they fought the flames.
The embers of September
would not cool for many days.
In May of the year following
She took her little one
to his Father's graveside
to show his namesake son.
She wept for love remembered
And vowed to do her part
to see this child, who bore his name,
.would know her hero’s heart
True, there would be no pictures
On the refrigerator door
Of Dad and son together
wrestling on the floor.
No photo at the little league-
He would miss his boy’s home run.
No Father -son catch in the yard
when the long work day’s done.
The boy would learn about his Dad
From her two older sons-
From photos in a album-
From Dad’s fire fighter chums.
There were stories she could tell him,
and some that she could not.
The tears that come at midnight
He could better do without.
Primarily he would meet him
in the rituals of the tribe.
There’s communion in the Pasta
There’s a silent sense of pride.
To never know a Father’s kiss
Or feel his warm embrace.
To carry on his father’s name
Yet not meet face to face.
That is the wise child’s burden-
To do the best he can.
Assemble the Mosaic
And finally know the man.
(Story of a 9/11 fire fighter who died in the towers, and his son who was born posthumously.)
poem by John F. McCullagh
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What Is Freedom? ...............
freedom.......freedom.........freedom............ ....
it contents variety of fact...............
there's no specific meanings for freedom................
because.............different people with different thoughts.................
some other they'd said...........
freedom is involving they-self to something they've love so much
but some other people thought..........
freedom is run away
from something or someone they've dislike too much
I'd do my own observations............
I'd explore the way of life......
I'd tried so many things in my life............
and you know what...........
I loved when i can reach my goals........
I think this is freedom.................
while you learns the way of life.....
you also can reach your satisfaction in your life..........................
That's the way of freedom........................
poem by Lina Manja257
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We Are Told
We are told that we have got freedom yet not freedom to do as we like
There are places we are not allowed to walk in or where we cannot ride a push bike
Which means that our freedom is so called since we cannot even walk where we please
Ours is such a limited freedom we are not as free as a breeze.
Without a passport we cannot travel to another Country and that is for a limited time
And if we overstay our visa that is a deportable crime
By the Immigration Department of Government by a Government not blessed with a soul
There is a name for such a practice 'tis known as population control.
Young men in wars fought and died for freedom but was it for freedom they died?
When their Government leader told them they were fighting for freedom to the young and naive troops he lied
They fought for the glory of their leader and risked their lives on a foreign shore
They were used as pawns in a deadly power game just that sad to say nothing more.
We are told that we have got freedom though we have to be careful with the words we say
And if our speech on it has got restrictions then what is freedom anyway?
Young men fought and even died for freedom at least that's what we are made to believe
By so called patriotic politicians people who are known to deceive.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Whose Freedom?
Freedom, freedom, freedom!
Whose freedom?
My freedom, your freedom, our freedoms;
Like e thousand times of a cry in a land!
Yes, they rule with iron-hand but,
We have to obey always;
A rule with an iron fist but,
We have to be the subjects always;
Whose freedom?
Look around you,
It is full of colours;
My freedom, your freedom, their freedoms!
Freedom, freedom, freedom! ! !
We nedd freedom than these shackles.
Whose freedom?
Free-free-free! Freedom to my people! !
Which people?
My people, your people, our peoples;
Have mercy on them and rule them with care.
We need freedom around us,
Whose freedom?
See the type of governments around you;
The people's freedom with an iron fist!
Tell me if all is well.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Round Of Patience
Father?
I know You have given me,
A freedom to choose.
A freedom to choose,
Whatever it is...
I have prayed to You to help me do.
And I know my decision to turn my back,
Is not the way You'd prefer me to act!
Not like that!
But Father?
I pray to You to deliver to me,
Another round of patience.
To do THY will.
Because Father, 'my' will...
Has had it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Stone Begins To Turn
I come here for dr. king
Who gave the people a precious thing
He found a light in the darkest hour
And the strength for speaking truth to power
And in the years since they shot him down
You see changes that once were a dream
Begin to come around
When the walls have begun to crumble
When the laws have begun to burn
When the winds is singing freedom
When the stone begins to turn
And I come here to praise mandela
And to send this message to his jailer
Your walls may hold the man inside
But theyll never ever hold back the tide
cause in the years youve shut him away
A generation has grown where he stood
Theyre gonna see the day
When the walls have begun to crumble
When the laws have begun to burn
When the wind is singing freedom
When the stone begins to turn
We come here to sing for freedom
And to send our voices to the ones who need them
Freedom for south africa
And justice for nelson mandela
cause in the years theyve shut him away
A generation has grown where he stood
Were gonna see the day
When the walls have begun to crumble
When the laws have begun to burn
When the wind is singing freedom
When the stone begins to turn
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Story Of My Land
My father tell me rebel tell
Tell about hero from his father time
Time of hero’s time of kings
Kings how roll the land
Land of honour and leaders
Who abey one role is freedom
Freedom of mind freedom of soul
Soul who can say the true
True about now realty is nothing
Nothing but lies about heaven and hell
Hell is what we living right now......
Now is the time to seal back home
And free the virgin land
Before this rippers take what belong to us
Wake up and see them ripping you rights
Killing your dream killing your mighty soul
Sallow your speaks in there dark mouths
To stop the wind that blows in to your face
To cover you home land with black sky
Oh my darling we will be there
To be with you your waiting is over
This is where my father grow up
This where sap use I live and rise
But am coming back to take what belong to me
Every memory I miss every little detail in my land I have to see
I will go there and see the people I suppose to meat
So stand back there and fight me
Fight me because am coming to hang you in my city door
To make it lesson for who dear to mess up with my homeland
poem by Aryabod Siharyvani
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Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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Father & Son
There is the family photograph
That is your father’s face,
There is your father’s father
Grey-gathering years apace;
The son, bright-eyed in the morning,
The father, lined and drawn,
The son became the father
On the day that you were born.
We’ve all set out on the highway
Our fathers wished us well,
The sons became the fathers
In the same distinctive spell;
The road of all beginnings
Is all there is to lend,
But many a twist, and many a turn
Has marred us at the end.
He was my father’s father,
I am my father’s son,
We’ve travelled as far, and farther
Than our father’s years have run;
The twists and turns of fortune
Mean nothing, lost or won,
But the love of a father’s father,
And the love of a father’s son.
3 September 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Thank You Father
Thank You Father,
For giving me this life that I live.
Thank You Father,
For giving me the chances to forgive.
I believe in You...
I pray each day to prove that I do!
Thank You Father,
The Keeper and Ruler of Love.
Thank You Father,
You're ALL things on Earth...and Above.
You opened up my eyes,
Your power can not be denied.
I dream of a life that is full
And giving!
To dream of a world
Where all people live in peace.
In true harmony released!
Thank You Father,
My soul will flow eternally.
Thank You Father,
The breath that I breathe
Just could not be.
In everything I do...
I ask of you
To help me see things through.
I know You are there with me every hour.
And each day...
It is clear that You're everywhere!
With You...
Why should I despair?
Thank You Father,
For giving me this life that I live.
Thank You Father,
For giving me the chances to forgive.
In everything I do...
My purpose here,
Is pleasing only You!
Thank You Father.
Thank You Father!
Thank You...
Father!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
the home of the slaves
and the land of no freedom
I'm gonna take the south out of South Africa
where George Wallace stood
on the University steps
and said no blacks
no blacks shall enter here
except over my dead
and crippled body
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where separate but equal means
that blacks lived in the homelands
and not in their homes
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where Jim Crow laws
have tried to change their colors
but it's still the same old shackles
call Apartheid
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
where young people are detained
...without trials
...without lawyers
...without rights
but never
... without hope
I'm gonna take the South out of South Africa
poem by Oscar Mireles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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