Words Don’t Soothe
Night after night, week after week and month after month,
they begged for their names not be forgotten.
To be remembered as part of your world
and not only in minds of children.
They need us to know.
You need not have been born in our land
to conceal their blood in your veins.
Dawn stirs on the horizon as contemplated words
scream obscenities across a virgin page.
In a letter to the man responsible for her conception.
There is the pleasure beauty brings in
nature at work in a scented forest.
Or sorrows washed away in the tide
Where the monster lurks beneath
uncharted waters to reach the sewer.
Footprints in the sands of time
become etched in the sordid depths.
Compared often to the inferno of hell
cannot bring forgiveness to mend the past.
Or heal their hearts or soothe a soul.
A woman cannot be shamed for the fire that rages in her heart,
or forced into silence preventing freedom to sore like an eagle.
When poisoned with truth she stores things that are hard to say.
No words to soothe or stop murky tears from falling over her country.
Only confrontation with this dark shadow will release it’s evil?
By Honor Donohoe