I ask myself why
Not knowing I’ve never known
Can the silence exist
Though no soul partakes
To let the other side be felt?
Through screens
And irrational blank spots
I rush
To no spell I have listened to.
By my wild eyes
I have come here to exist;
There, too,
Shall running scenes
Invoke my childishness.
It is not a fair game for you
Hearts bleed unceremoniously
Destruction forever forcing you
Oppression unannounced
While you are wondering why you?
“Why must our people feel this?”
“Why has this been for me?”
“Why can the others not see?”
“Who is here for me?”
Though many know what life is for you
Though your people value you
The world forgets you
Telling you silently
No place is safe for you
For your bloodline spills unceremoniously
Though fires flood each embankment
Left, blowing over you
Calling out your named ancestors
Forever running after you
Filling your chest with empowerment
With a fair game for you with you.
~ written for the oppressed peoples of the world
There is a girl back home
I’ve been thinking of
She’s offered soup
But denied help with soiled linens
And yet
We’ve never met
She’s often faced with fear
As often things unclear
Why? She asks. Why? She asks
Why she does never tell