I cannot write a poem for gaza children
It would be a mangle of grief, a dirge for peace
I cannot write such a poem for gaza children
It would be a sad thing, a crying shame
I cannot write this poem for gaza children
It would fall down, a blubbering bloody squall,
a murderous rite.
even now as we weep and wail,
there is reeling and raging
there is a mass of gales in the whirlwind
there will be sowing in the blink of a blasting eternity
that is never far off.
I cannot write that poem, the one you're thinking of,
The one you know that I should write.
© 11.18.2012 by Lasana M. Sekou
(A St. Martin poet/author, houseofnehesipublish.com).
