Maybe I’ve been desensitized to their sufferings
Maybe I’ve watched enough desecrated bodies to not catalogue them as bodies anymore
It’s no big deal no more, they’re just a number to show
The land that was celebrated on spilled blood, still is
The land that was celebrated on public service has a me before anyone policy
The land we wanted for freedom of expression uses it to grieve
Grieve for the hundreds that die everyday
The mother that loses her child to corrupt mafias
The sister that loses her brother in target killing
Or the father who went to pray, only to have his own prayer offered
Grieve for the sleepless nights spent wondering if today would be the day sons don’t come home
The restless days thinking their daughters would be harassed
Or the adolescent that wakes up shivering thinking about the things that could go wrong
We grieve, it’s the one thing we know how to do so well we don’t even feel it anymore
This is the land they died to protect, left everything to get
The system of loot, plunder, rape and murder that started then has continued today
Years later, we’re still burying in mass graves, we’re still crying our lives away
Maybe that’s what freedom meant, funerals our way
The thousands that die, the countless that did
Maybe I’ve been desensitized to their sufferings,
Bombs blast, shots fired – What if they did?
Love this, it is so full of sentiment. You write really well.
I’d love if you could check out my work as well.
https://fountainofthoughtblog.wordpress.com
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Thank you so much for the appreciation!
Will do so (:
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You’re welcome. Keep writing such amazing pieces. 🙂
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