We found ourselves amid a group of people,
Protesting and gallivanting the streets of Sharpeville.
Suddenly, police started shooting and chasing us,
Killing and leaving remains of those behind us,
Devouring us one by one.
They killed, calling us names, while we ran for our lives
And throwing stones to slow them down,
But they continued charging and we ran and ran.
Finally we had lost them, our devourers.
When all was over, and mother’s mourning,
We saw grounds surrounded by pools of blood.
And that’s when we said, “Indeed it was a massacre”
A Sharpeville massacre.