Breaking down the walls of age
I stand before you.
Your tears are reflected in my raging anger
as my heart screams,
Not again! Not again!
I’m as lost as you are,
unable to catch up with
these questions running
wildly through my mind.
Where will we go?
Who will we trust?
Where will we hide?
Who will hold our values high?
To whom will we turn?
Who will be the rock of our homes?
When did the foundation crack?
Your body’s battered
In private places
Rough, hungry hands dirtying,
touching you in places.
Shamelessly groping,
Probing,
painfully thrusting.
Searing like a knife,
breaking,
your body, your trust,
Leaving indelible stain.
Eight years of life
Poverty driven and enslaved
by a people too busy to care.
Eight years of life,
so full of pain,
driven to its knees
Shattered before it’s really began
PoP © 9 July 07
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4 comments:
Who will hold our values high?
To whom will we turn?
Who will be the rock of our homes?
When did the foundation crack?
this one in particular shikad me. Your poems are so heartfelt, one can nearly feel the depth and soul of what you want to put across. dang im addicted.
Your angry poetry is a call to arms in defense of innocent girls and boys that continue to be raped by a system that, to borrow words from one of your earlier poems on the same subject, "deafens us with empty promises" and "and all who choose to turn a blind eye". We grieve with you. We struggle side by side with you!
@K.I.P.U.S.A - Thank you for the kind words.
@Mzalendo - our silence continues to erode the morals of our society. We need to educate others, sensitize men and women. Most important, we need to ensure our society doesn't go to the dogs through loss of morals.
checking in as usual. feeling them as usual. the voice of the voiceless...
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