the cry – woolwich

We heard your cry;

saw your blood stained hands

on YouTube;

saying you killed

to liberate those chained

by foreign policy.


I tried to listen

but it was marred by the gruesomeness

of the envoy;

instead I read

rage, madness, grief

yours and then my own.


You had your reasons

but none I could see;

released the victim from the

tyranny you painted.

All I saw was your addition to the cycle of

reprisal and murder.


Counting the losses;

amongst the wailing of those left behind

I see the results of your missive;

as it grows the gap and continues to tears us up apart.


© Cleopatra Chipo Kuuya 2013