They Call Me The Watcher Poem by Jouri Frazer

They call me the watcher
As I taint my eyes with the blood of a fallen child
Now a lifeless vessel whose name will never be heard
And as the young blood drips from my lenses
The oil it paid for drips from the palm of the powers that be

They call me the watcher
As I watch the gold and diamonds worn
Whose bright shines hide dark tales of the lost
Tales of the children of the mines whose blood is worn as status
Victims of a forgotten war whose souls have been silenced for evermore

They call me the watcher
As I watch a starving soul scavenge for food in the trash
And as I watch as he wishes to cry tears denied for his body has no fluid to spare
I watch as he shivers violently in the cold at night
Only to wake to an insatiable hunger in the light of the dawn

They call me the watcher
I watch as an orphan hugs her sister
As her fathers home is defiled in search of weapons that never were
Still I watch as the young one bathes in her tears
As the warmth is ripped from their home by those who are called heroes

They call me the watcher
As I watch a girl abducted from her home
I watch as her innocence is replaced by the aura of a battle-hardened killer
I watch from the dark as an 8 year old guns down a screaming family
Only to walk away with no sense of remorse or regret

They call me the watcher
For I’m the one who sees all
But they can’t see that I’m also a dreamer
And when my eyes have closed
I dream of a world that never was