Stealth Warfare They Call It

Stealth warfare they call it
The way they are killing me
O not by starvation
That won't do again when so many now
A shrinking roll of profit must skim for more
My hunger, my greed
Is how they assigned my death to me
In polluted water
And strange chemicals in my food
You know they do not like views
The way I question  changes
That make us sicker each day

I use to go to the back of buildings
Reach over garbage bins
Because of little signs
And this apartheid boundary to my skin
But now the doors fly open
Yawning for me to come in
Through the killing radiation
Accumulated to my skin
I thought the cell phone was to track me
The offer came in the mail
But it adds to the radiation
So my dying will not fail

Yes, I am on the battlefield surrounded
This culture is a killing machine
If I was not aborted
Few children get beyond their teens
Particularly those like me
With this anxiety
If they will not give me reparations
I should understand
I am already marked for extinction.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace