Sound of automatic weapons
Seem to fill the hot night air
Then silence that was deafening
I was the only one they spared


Walking toward the refuge camp
Many orphans joined the throng
There were only children marching
This was so impossibly wrong


A journey of a thousand miles
Seemed much too much to bear
Dying of starvation, dehydration
Stalked by lions everywhere


Some died from eating things
That were growing along the way
Wild berries and leaves and grasses
Poisoned water, some would say


They trekked along endlessly
The older boys led the younger
They finally could not keep up
Many died from illness and from hunger


'Til finally they reached the refuge camp
Thousands swarmed around all day
They couldn't find any family
They were all orphaned in one day


Now some seek a future in America
Spread out from sea to sea
They work for minimum wages
Go to school and just learn to "be"


The money that they earn
Is carefully stored away
They will send it back to Sudan
Where they hope to go someday


It's hard to see the horrible dreams
On their bright and shining faces
Mild mannered and reflective men
They take up such little spaces


These proud black giants of Sudan
Will keep speaking to be heard
To tell the world of the horrors
'Til all injustices are cured

 


By Joy (JOY3032@aol.com)





 







 




Watch these pages for more poems by Joy.
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poems and stories by our other authors.


White

The Collectors

The Easter Dress

The Magic Meadow

Days

It Is April

The Missing Piece

The Mad March Hare

Old Treasures



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