a child of war

a child of war.

as she lies bleeding,
the girl who skipped, hopped to school,
all of nine and a half years old,
with ribbons in her hair and a laugh that was her parent’s pride.

as she lies bleeding,
shrapnel lodged in her torn stomach,
she stares at her skipping rope,
as her blood soaks it the colour of cherries her mummy buys.

as she lies bleeding,
she sees people all around thick black smoke,
blurred visions of scattering feet, shoes left behind,
hearing nothing but the pinging in her smashed eardrums.

as she lies bleeding,
she slips away and then she is dead,
a mangled heap of a nine and a half year old girl,
whose laugh was her mother’s pride.

as she lies bleeding,
for even in death she bleeds some more,
shrapnel wedged in her torn stomach,
stealing the light from her bright little eyes.

as she lies bleeding …

in jallianwala bagh in ‘19,
leningrad in ‘42,
freetown in ‘98,
soweto in ‘76,
jenin in ‘02,
hanoi in ‘68,
beirut in ‘85,

raqqa now,
basra still,
gaza too.

as she lies bleeding,
a little nine and a half year old girl,
whose laugh was her parent’s pride,
we know she’ll bleed more,

tomorrow and in many tomorrows yet unborn,

with shrapnel in her stomach,
ripped open and torn.

as she lies bleeding.

N O T
          I N
                M Y
                       N A M E …

:-) Illegitimi non carborundum ;-)

😉 Illegitimi non carborundum 🙂

 

Staggering, my vision cloudy,

I fall to the hard ground.

when life’s sharp left-jab leaves my face bloody,

and all that surrounds me, is the desolation of loss I feel all around.

 

…

 

I see myself slipping,
down the abyss to where nothingness exists,

 

still, I cling on, groping for a foothold,
for my will to stay persists.

 

…

 

I clamber up, I stand my ground, though battered and bruised I may be,

my curtain is not falling yet, I have some fight still left in me.

 

…

 

It is then, in the pit of despair, when all seems bleak and painful and dull,

 

I summon the strength from deep within,

 

I rise, slowly, to face the day,

 

I refuse to sink,

 

to wallow, to surrender, to throw in the towel,

 

to drown,

 

for I am stronger now,

 

indeed I am, after all the years, and all the battles,

 

I stand, bruised and bloody,

 

still,

 

I stand,

 

I refuse, to sink, to drown,

 

for they can try, to punish me some more,

 

but I shall not allow them to grind me down… 😉