Wednesday, June 20, 2012

I am

Can you see the footprint tears marked on my face?
I am the forgotten child.
Slowly crumbling and shattering in this God forsaken place,
My ribcage becomes more visible each day you smiled.

I am the lost boy,   
My bones are like brittle contraction poles,
That can barely hold this AK-47 toy,
And my fingers are stained with these bullet holes.

I am the amputated father,
I walk with one leg not even carrying any armour.
My charcoal lips are dryer with this scorching weather,
And I never kissed water because dust seems to be the only flavour

I am the broken mother,
Forced to flee my home because I couldn’t bother,
To live another second while my child crawls on the floor,
looking for food under the cooker.

I am the dead brother,
Recruited by militants because I thought I was a fighter.
I am the orphaned sister,
made to look after six siblings without a shelter. 

I am the wounded streets,
Bombs detonate above me as my concrete heart beats.
I am the rivers that can’t flow,
Our thirsty skin cracks as earth starts to grow.  

I am poverty,
I am suppressed liberty.
I am the drought, the hungry cattle and camels
I am the famine that suffocates embryos in mammals.

I am the tainted peace,
I am the lifeless police
I am the crying please!
I am the silent disease.

I am them, they, us, and we
I am him, her, his and she
I am you, your, myself and me

But I am,
I am,
I am       … Somalia

Abadir Hashi
Copyright © 2012

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