Free verse, Poem

Day 64: Riots

You want to be strong in the face of it all,
But you know you won’t be
Standing tall and proud, head held regally…
Instead, you cower and cry for them to stop

All you see is weakness, as you watch
Your blood and tears mingle in a liquid dance,
As you bury your face in the dry feces of the Earth

They could not even leave you this,
A belief in your strength,
A sense of honour.

The urge to kick and fight ​rages in you
But you know there are too many
So you lie, prone but awake

Praying for divine strength and deliverance,
Hoping to live but wanting to die
With a final kick, they move away

Word of hate, spewing from their mouth,
Remembered words of who you are
Defined by…
A mother’s tongue, a motherland…a mother’s love

“There’s another one” they shout
Their bodies strumming with excitement,
With a final spit, they move on.

Their hearts enraptured by the hunt,
Their hands sweetly grasping their clubs of iron and wood
Caressing softly the rope and kerosene

Through swollen eyes,
You look at the terrified face of a brother
“Run” you want to yell
As your mouth opens…

But all you can do is sign with relief,
And surrender to sweet oblivion
His cries… their cries…The lullaby to your dreams.

© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy

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