He was a beggar and he lived in poverty, on abject suffering. His stomach complained about it, but there was nothing he could do, to move himself to another level. He was the lowest of the low, too dirty to beg, so he roamed the streets, combing through bins, looking with hungry eyes, for morsels of food. “Your suffering is caused by apartheid” his leader said. “It is sanctions” another dear Leader, proclaimed over booming microphone.
He walked the streets with a slow gait, passing the time from bin to trash can, a little energy provided by 5 mac dees chips. The sun fell off the western side of the earth, as it did every day. And the fear of darkness painted, the Joburg skies a shade of night. With the approaching darkness and spreading gloom of the evening, he found himself a bridge to sleep under, perchance to dream.
The migrants who lived there , seen his move to their area, as a sovereign attack, so engaged in thoughts that made their minds hostile, which furnished their brains, with anger that made them attack him, doing the only thing that would punish him, more than his already God forsaken existence, they removed his rags, and sent him naked into the night.
The next morning the sun climbed, in its, think I can way, to the middle of the sky. He walked the streets in his birthday suit, with the normal people staring at him, saying to their children “Look there goes a mad man”
He trekked and pulled himself ahead, to the edge of the city, where he found a pile of sand in which he scribbled the following words.
I agree it is sanctions and apartheid and wars for freedom, that cause my suffering( buddha was wrong), if I lived in a mansion, or rode the drive in the latest German car, or fine dined, dressed in designer suit, perhaps like you, the suffering of sanctions and the ghost of apartheid would not find me.
Date: Yesterday , Today and Tomorrow
signed : Samson