Dear Father

Written for the Wingword Poetry Competition

“What am I to do father My world is on fire, and Circumstances seem so dire.

We choke under the knee, We choke from the smoke, We choke we choke, whenever we breathe

We choke every heart That tries to beat free.

Disunited, angry, crying, for our mothers. They won’t let us be.

There are innocents trying, In every country, Seeking only justice and equality, A crime for which they’re dying.

I feel their pain, And I feel powerless. Imagine them then For surely the knee will rest on me one day.

Is this how it will end? With painful pleas Shouted by hoarse tongues. Hate and bile No trial. Most hoping it fizzles out In just a while?

Or will we come to each other’s aid across all nations, and terrain? Strive, shield, unite, lead And never ever yield. Can it be that we Change our ways and change our destiny?“