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