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  • Syakir Moharum


Where I thought gone the years of war,

the world surprises me

with children sobbing away,

saying final goodbyes

to beloved fathers whose grief concealed,

cramming into trains

to God knows where.

Where I thought home was here to stay,

the world surprises me

with shards of glass

scattered on dusty floors,

fire raging in corners

of abandoned kindergartens,

old men holding out arms

as tanks roll in the direction of home.

Where I thought leaders had our trust,

the world surprises me

with teenagers knowing not their worth,

ordered to march to front lines

of battles so few need witness,

“in the name of freedom,

in the name of security”

(in the name of crazy old men)

Where I thought world peace was everlasting,

the world surprises me

with more than just uniforms on the streets

or tanks on the plains

or missiles from the skies

or threats on the tongues

of suns in the nights

“words, just words” they say…

I shudder to think:

if today’s words are just words,

will tomorrow’s wars be just wars?



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