A Vision Of Hell

http://www.savethechildren.org.uk/en/somalia.htm
http://www.supportunicef.org/site/pp.asp?c=9fLEJSOALpE&b=7542627
http://www.redcross.org.uk/

For the quite sirens of ambulance cry  
Cry babies loud in faint infant voice, 
Not heard  so loud, so so loud 
The mother's ears can no longer hear  
The eyes that see, is set in trance   


Where mobs of wombs are reduced 
To pain of destitute   
Walking empty with diminishing hope   
Why has mother Africa forsaken me   
Trauma sits as the permanent marker  


Let the rebel find other roads to chant on  
Play macho on another's patch, not mine   
Food is our saving grace    
Aqua hungs as the sight of life     


And for me,  the author that be, 
An oath I make, I swear an oath 
I will never leave another tap running waste  
Ever again, never like before, in baths   
Now I know it's true value, to gain  


What became of the brothers  
The fathers, the husbands, honour  
Who seek respect holding guns and religion   
With no room in hands held out, 
For the value of life  


Is this not said to be the land of beginnings, Riches , green  oh so much to give 
How did revelations take hold of so many  
I will gladly accept what Babylon has to offer  
With open hands, please do give, for I am desperate  


While my child dies in my hands, I am helpless 
Watching hyenas laugh out loud on approach   
Babylon I beg of you to be my saving grace 
While Zion refuse to heed to common sense  


This poem is my entrance to the final One Shot Sunday at One Stop Poetry and 

I Saw Sunday - Week 44. Photographer by Rosie Grady, for the lady in the bath. I acknowledge that the poem and the picture is almost forced on each other, but this was the story I wanted to share, for its importance please visit One Stop Poetry for more poems.