International Womens Day Poem by Leandra Gebrakedan

International Woman’s day


The war has taken its toil on us
The war has taken its toil on me
We carry on without a fuss
Carrying the scars in my heart and body

Left for dead, far from home
My enemies regard me as a nonentity
My weary, wounded body, I drag, aimlessly I roam
My pride lost with my dignity

Each step is laborious, each step is excruciating
I feel, I can no longer carry on
But at home my children are waiting
My mind keeps replaying, their favourite song

What is this, I see and hear, just ahead
The child of my enemy, lost, left behind in the turmoil
Tears running from its eyes, eyes full of dread
Clothes ripped like rags, covered in soil

I grab the child, and stifle its tears
Run as fast as I can, evading detection
It can’t be older than a couple of years
Eyes pleading for compassion, and affection




Finally the deed is complete
I wasn’t caught, I’m free
Very nimble on my feet
Successful, full of glee

I had deposited the child, within minutes of its family
I waited to see it in safe hands
At the end of the day, a child of my enemy
Is innocent, and not a part of a war for oil, diamonds, religion, or land



© Leandra Gebrakedan 2011