Epistle to somalia

Children will bear
On their shoulders
The murderers of their mothers
The murderers of their fathers
In a treacherous embrace

Ill-clad,tough faced comouflaged juveniles
Bearing the mute agents of death
Will strut
the streets
of the city
driven
By wild and innocent revenge
Against the will of the unseen
Against authority
To avenge their parents' death
When like flies the batallion will swarm the city There will be no childhood
The innocence of childhood will be no more
Even 8-year olds will be soldiers They will be in the city by hundreds
To stand against those Who wrenched childhood from them

But will they know That of the mistakes they were shielded from doing
Of the mistakes their parents did
Of their parents' deaths not being a mistake?

(*epistle to uganda)