All I recall is the sight of people running away,
some in pajamas, others the way God
brought them to Earth.
It was dark, and it was cold.
Colder than the blood washing the soil,
the soil where our neighbors' toys laid
We weren't going to leave home.
Not the 100 meter squared flat
my father built with his own hands. No.
We weren't going to leave the whole country.
But mom insisted we should escape
before one of us gets slaughtered,
like the woman's head
I tripped over.
I tripped over.
The woman's head
- Will it be over?
My child shrugs, as the broadcaster states
it won't be. Not so soon, at least.
- When will we come back, then?
In a few, I tell him.
We'll come back in a few.
I turn off the TV and smile at him.
That same inscrutable smile
my father used
to bribe me with.
You have a couple of errors in your poem but that will not stop me commenting...shame on the person/persons who downvoted you!
I cannot imagine anyone writing this verse without actually experiencing it...it must be aweful to live like that! I tripped..I tripped...you emphasis the horror here....very bluntly! Your ending also takes my breath away...I have to wonder...where do you live...have lived
This was such a disturbing piece to me, the way you have taken all you see around you and form it into verses to tell the reader, tell a story we will never understand. It's a dark piece as well as sad in my mind because you have this deadened tone to it, like your spirit is gone and you have become lethargic in remembering everything that led up to this escape you're planning.
The repetition of "I tripped over" made me imagine you are in shock at the sight of your country falling apart or that you have grown up in war and have seen how issues are still unsolved, and you are numb. To all the bloodshed. I also like how you referenced your parents.... possibly the pride of the father who built this home for you, and then your mother's deep concern, urging you to at least flee for a little while. But here you seem to know it will never end. The part about your child touched my heart and gave me the chills. I don't know what I would possibly do in a situation like that, but it would be nothing short of emotionally straining to have to keep your head up for your child, keep saying "soon" or in this case "in a few".... nothing is certain, yet you don't say there will end to it because I don't know if you even believe it yourself. The image of that smile at the end, the last smile maybe, is where you use the remaining energy you have. This is all you can offer him, bribe him with you move ahead and not be disheartened. Like you are taking on the legacy of your father, who didn't want you to think there would be no way out, or who lied to protect.