Friday, May 14, 2010

Forgotten Soil

Now she standing on top the tiny grave, gently cradling a bundle of rags that held the emancipated remains, of her 7 yr. old son .Her daughter died mystically she was found face-flat lying under the sun. She buried her whole family And..Hope passed out.

And its what kills me. I’m not trying be philosophical but its ironical how few people notice why my country needs more than a miracle. No explanation, needed on a dyer nation. Dead, yet alive people. They gave in, only depend on Allah. This is not a tragic it’s past a disaster. This was a murder, committed by the world. They called it civil war, it’s never-ending. Death feels like its blending. Rest in peace Haiti, but where’s Palestine? Where’s Somalia? We were dead and you came with a cure for malaria? They left us, thoughtless. Then our hearts blacker, Fearless. They were killing, Restless. On-going massacre. This is not sad. This is life. Imagine your throat living next to a knife. But they never notice. Is it because they assume by the skin I’m in?

See Round here, there’s is no love nor hate, They’re this feeling where you can almost taste your fate. The young boy knows he'll end up fighting for no such ground. Look em in the eye and you see that frown, No it’s not asking for help. He’s wondering why they teared down his safe haven. And now his mind is enslaved, under the fact that our beloved world didn’t craven, for the little boy. So now he runs and snacth's his rifle so the other kids don’t take his only toy. He sees, his eyes are on full defense. He is steadily waiting, Because the notion is Highly intense. And due to that, it’s why we lack this So-called common sense. Dusty minds always need cleanse .And they all just watched our beautiful soil just condense..

We living the hottest summer but the world is so cold. And now this life itself is sold. And due to that our hearts must be bold. So audacious, heavily unarmed that boy stays conscious. I am stronger than ever my dreams have no Yield. And right now i feel I’m at home, I exist within the battlefield. Life is not really colorful when it only comes in one color. When death is chasing you, you’re gladly to be a runner. They say "The fearless is always feared for". You'll never hear the Lion hearts roar.

Mukhtar Mohamed
Copyright © 2010

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