Genocide
They came in numbers so great,
they showed no pity for those they raqed ,
whilst I lie here in a pit next to my dead son,
I here remember the solders did not count each dead one,
my sisters were the first to go,
now all I feel is woe,
for my mother is next in line,
in me she would always confine,
once upon a time I was married to the one I love,
now I look for one white dove,
to show the end of war,
which I abhor,
for all the sadness it brings,
I shall grow wings,
to see all those people whom I remember,
before the 1st November,
when all spirits come out to play,
that shall be the end of my days
A poem I wrote for one of my school classes.