Unknown- An Ode

Reads: 177  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
An ode to the refugees of Syria, who are facing so much injustice.

Submitted: November 29, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 29, 2015

A A A

A A A


He is my only child,
cradled in my arms like a bouquet of lilies
as if my shaking limbs are sandbags stacked close.
I try to sing him away, but only names of the dead linger on
my tongue, a bitter-sweet education,
for if he lives
if they let us live,
he will know them by heart.

I can't smell anything but heat,
that damp, humid scent amongst the dust of what we were.
I can't hear anything but an end, and the start of
something bigger than me. I can hear death.
The bang came first, then the panic
and now the nothing.
I cannot see a tomorrow.


© Copyright 2018 AlanaLouiseMcDermott. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply