Lines in the Sand

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sun, 21 Sep 2014
  • 1119 reads
6 comments
 
For my sixth birthday
I wanted a doll; instead
they gave me a rifle
and a box of bullets.
 
“Fucking shoot at something!”
they shouted.  “Shoot the trees
for starters.”  
 
But I was too small, too weak, 
to even tote it.
 
A game of hopscotch on the sand.
 
“This ain’t no party,” they said.
 
Had us dig graves 
with our bare hands.
 
“Fresh out of shovels,”
the bastards lied.
 
We knelt to pick flowers;
they crushed them underfoot. 
Beat us with sticks; told us,
 
“Clean up the river.
Filth attracts filth.”
 
To them, just so much flotsam –
the remains of a girl; 
 
in retrospect  
about the same age as me,
braids – drifting free
like green-ribbon
on brackish water.
 
Next day it was one of us –
a boy of nine who’d tried
to run away.  Forced to watch
as he pissed himself.
 
Then they shot him. 
Point blank.
 
Given up as infants;
a disposable commodity. 
All we ever wanted
was to belong.
 
And yet – what were we?
 
Orphanage fodder
to be plundered at will;  
our crime – being born.
 
You can’t fight evil like that
with Kalashnikovs...
 
Malevolence that rumbles on
and on like distant thunder
in rag-torn skies
above their precious land 
where independence
reigns supreme.
 
Where only the hyena
roams free.  
 
Where innocence
will never come again
and only the lavender
stands tall.  
 
Still waiting
to be gathered.
Certificate 15
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

What a powerful narrative in this tightly wrought poem.  The setting might be anywhere, so prophetic as well as insightful.

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hello, Philip, and thank you for reading this Sunday morning.

The poem's roots are primarily in the experiences of children, now in their late thirties, who were kidnapped by the Eritrean Liberation Front, but as you say the setting could be, unfortunately, universal. Siimilar atrocities in other parts of Africa and the world are still ongoing, with the  'recruitment' of child soldiers an ever increasing problem.

Tina

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

I think I have read this in a slightly different form before, but it is still powerful and so sad. It also pictures how a group can try to force their view of what is good for everyone, by brutality much worse than what had been before they 'took charge'. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Yes, you are very right, Rhiannon, as ever.  I have written and rewritten it many times.  Glad this version worked for you, as I always value your thoughts so highly.

Tina

 

Submitted by Denzella on

Tina,

This is so powerful and thought provoking.  It really brought me up short. The violence visited on innocent children beggars belief.  Christ, they wanted so little.

'Given up as infants;

a disposable commodity. 

All we ever wanted

was to belong.'

It seems wrong to say much enjoyed, but I did enjoy the skill you've shown in the way you have ordered your thoughts and strung together the words that convey your message. 

Moya

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thanks, Moya.  

I was in the hairdressers one day, quite a few years ago now, browsing through magazines, as one does, when I came across a short autiobiography of  one of these children... now in her late thirties. It moved me so much that I researched the subject, and hence this poem.  

Tina