This Poem

This Poem by ToonHood

Photo |Courtesy

This poem is born out of shock, born out of torn wombs inspired by the torn souls of women and girls from countries and regions where war is the breakfast,t, lunch, dinner and supper, and bomb blasts and gunshots their daily bedtime stories.

This poem is born out of cries of women who when men fear bullets shot to kill them, they count shots militia aren't militaria, gangs, or rebels, that impregnate them and their minds with memories and depressions, so they run to give their wombs a break.

This poem is born of hopelessness in women who once had hope of changing the world but the world ended up changing them;

women whose faces show no identity,

women whose names dictate no personality,

women who fled to the peaceful countries near them but found no refuge,

women who auction their emotions in the streets to sustain their living,,

women who have sex with different men trying to find out whether they could make love,

women who got raped more times in a day than they got food,

Women who raise kids that they know not their fathers because they were gang raped.

women who have suffered so much under men to a point that they cannot believe that God is a man,

women who when you tell them of heaven they think of a peaceful place without men,

So next time you see them don't start judging them, but smile, show them love, care and support 

them.

This poem is about suffering from fear, of women and men who when you wish them to live longer to tell us about war, wish that they could get amnesia and forget everything because, in war, there is nothing to smile about.

And when this poem dies, do not cry, do not mourn, do not use your money for post-mortem because this poem  will  die of pain.... pain...pain

©toonhood

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