Love, poetry



little habibati

wrapped in your swaddling cloth

held to your grandfathers breast

no more breath in your fragile lungs

burned by unholy fire

bound to the land

of your birth and death


there is no apology

no words

no way to soothe the grief

in your mother’s heart

in your father’s eyes

in your brother’s soul

You never knew anything

but love

until your last moment

until your last breath

taken from you

stolen like the land

in which your broken bones

will lay forever

you never had a chance

to raise your voice

to look on in wonder

as your friends and comrades and family

stand by you

and liberate

with love

a land that has not known love

for so long

you could have brought music


you could have brought forth life

of your own

but you will not

you will only mulder

and rot

and fade away into the dust

that is washed from your face

by your grandfather’s desperate tears

you were hope

and now you will only ever be

a memory



2 thoughts on “Habibati

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