Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Poem on Drought

Drought is to the land
What thirst is to the people
It is a silent killer,
It comes and it lingers,

Crops die and people hunger,
Farmers grow weary
Their efforts and struggles
Show for nothing,
and hence why they're teary

Vegetation becomes a luxury,
and soon a famine is but near,
The lucky ones lose their wealth
Whilst others lose most of their families.

Mothers cradle death,
and fathers are mixed with sorrow  and grief
They stare silently with empty eyes
Long gone are heroics

With the clothes on their back,
They travel,
They've heard stories of help,
and, so they journey

They reach camps-
as sole survivors
Their young ones had soon departed
They are told to stand in line
For hours they do
and are granted no concession.

Help is indeed a funny concept,
Soon though Ramadhan descends,
and in their hearts
Little shards of tranquility
and they pray to the one who Hears
Of their sorrows, dreams & new dependence.

Amal Saed
Copyright © 2010

No comments:

Post a Comment