Just Write

A human burns inside

vents his anger onto paper

pulls the shards from his body

arranges them into a poem,

bleeding with the blood of his city

(with one hand burned

and the other broken,

he writes

To avenge the years of drought

The thorns from his land he uproots

To pour the bridle of his anger

into two verses,

weeping, for nothing can console him

He writes for those.

whose voices have failed them,

whose hands were taken

He writes to soothe their family;

to embrace those who have lost a beloved

to tell the story of sleep to a child who misses his mother,

reminding him

that he is not alone

He writes to heal.

or maybe to stay sane

He writes so that

if a bullet should pierce him,

or a rocket tears his body apart,

His words will remain,

proving that,

He did not stay silent,

but was fighting

By writing