Written in Wasted Pity
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I pity the refugee’s road of flight,
the children of the shanty and the gun
who on all humanity are a blight -
who die or live unto be an orphan.
I pity the meagre, the forgotten
who a crisis of ravages endure,
whose fate is that of the misbegotten
and whose need is now, real, grave, just, and raw!
I pity the terrorised, the wartorn,
the sacked and conquered that bury their dead -
the child bride, the child slave still to be born
and alas the lost soul already bred.
I pity the brave girl I used to know
and wonder dreadfully where did she go?
Written: August 2006
*I wrote this many years ago about a little girl
in Sierra Leone named Marie (pictured above)
during the civil war who I used to sponsor.
She and her family had to flee their village
and I never heard from her again. That was in
1997. Seems the one constant in this world is
conflict. Dedicated to all the Maries out there.
Copyright © Keith D Trestrail | Year Posted 2024
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