by mary ann calingo
Published on: Aug 4, 2008
Topic:
Type: Poetry

I once followed tracks of these ashen snow
Secretly, silently, cautiously, now
Or I’m sure be dead with just one blow
That’s what I know I was only four

Though with fright, with all my might
I beg the truth to come to light
Sir blue eyed armed men, where are my people?
The death chamber they said, you wanna come with, girl?

I ran with the black wind, but it carried no hope
Just echoes of their brutal heehaws, and my people’s ashen souls
Now where is God in this time of evil outpour?
How would I know, I was only four.

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