OG (30/06/1989 / Khulna)

A Somalian Child

Behold there, a Somalian child is standing upon dry hard rocks.
Its two eyes glitter like a rough diamond, parched, bleak and dark.
Its belly exhibits the fragile bony ribs and silently mocks
The phony Art that seeks phony beauty even in wounded scar-mark.

The orphan boy was trying to scream but no voice came out
From its barren vocal cord, empty stomach and shrinking lung.
Its salty tears have dried out too like parched petals of a dead sprout.
Its face looked blue and pale as if it were serpent-stung.

This child, like all newborns here, was born with a constant Curse
Of utmost struggling life until it moves, stares, breathes no more.
Even showers upon the drought-infested land cannot reimburse
The untold tales of such millions of children, the Pain-store.

Two immobile figures of dead parents laid on dusty ground
And blurred cries of the child melted in heat of wind there.
No humans were there to hear except vultures that hovered around
The dead bodies and waited until death of the tiny figure.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

Thanks a lot, Sharmin. I am happy to know that you have got the message within this poem and I feel my poem has succeeded in its goal. Thanks for your appreciation and support.
truly Osman your words truly touched my soul...your poem reflects your concern and have raised a very important issue that is suffered by the somalians... i truly loved it and your poem has encouraged me to google on the ordeals the somalians face... Hats off to you..Keep it up
Thanks Arfa for commenting and understanding the situation. Really, the situation is very grave indeed. Thanks again. :)
the turmoil of sumalians is described in a very very appropriate way...... very very touchy piece......... too good.......... it didnt only touched my heart........ it even made a place in ma heart..........