Internally displaced point of view… written on march 29, 2012(in dedication to those affected by the 2007/2008 poll violence in kenya)

I need no help

I need someone to rely on

My situation is one I wish they would keep an eye on

I need no wealth, just a mattress I could lie on

This cold floor makes my bones quake

Do I deserve this? Did I sin or make some colossal mistake…

That I’m being punished for?

Is that why I feel so malnourished and sore?

They look at me with pity while taking a tour

Of our camp… my ‘home’

They will return and say they did something noble today and spent time with ‘the poor’

I’m not poor, I am my father’s son

And if they took the time to listen, they would realize that I stand proud for something my father has done

Or ‘did’

He saved my siblings and I you see, held the door shut as we ran away through the back

As attackers tried to break in

My father is dead, but his legacy has stuck

With us… my brothers and I

And if I fold and break now I know my younger brothers will die

So I arch my back and eye the government minister looking right at me

Hoping he sees my plight

But it seems lost to him like a shadow in the night

His expression remains as dry as the inside of my mouth

He doesn’t need to pay attention to me now, there are no cameras about.

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2 thoughts on “Internally displaced point of view… written on march 29, 2012(in dedication to those affected by the 2007/2008 poll violence in kenya)

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