My Damn Powerless Hands

 

It is hard

when you don’t know

where you are going.

And where

you have been,

is fading fast

for the ties that bind us –

barely lie past

the wounds we carry…

 

There has been loss

there is loss

there is more loss

than anyone can ever imagine

and though my heart still beats,

it is not the same.

 

What horrors

Have crossed my path

And what pangs of hunger

Suffering and mistreatment

Has my child had to witness?

My hands to hold

The only things left –

To help him feel safe

In a world that cares not

Our fate,

And even there –

I am powerless.

 

The sun may rise tomorrow

for some,

hovering in all her beauty

above the horizon

I’ve seen such beauty once,

but I can no longer bear to see it.

 

For everything I have lost –

I once held

in my two hands

and their emptiness shatters

the silence of my days.

 

Were I to mourn?

Who would listen?

Were I to cry out injustice

Who would speak for me?

I am but a lone voice

In a wilderness

That has been given

Me no chance

To right the wrongs

That I have borne.

 

Go back, they say

Yet where shall I turn to?

My weary child

Begs for safety

And though I am capable,

I have been prevented

From giving him a home.

 

And though I have travelled miles

Through sweat, hardship and tears

There is nothing left to fight for

As they carry my child away,

Arms flailing,

Crying out my name –

And my powerless hands

My damn powerless hands

Can do nothing.

 

© Sumyanna 2018

 

A similar poem was written by me in 2016 about Syrian refugees.  The story keeps being retold, and nothing has been learned.  Incredibly sad time we live in.

 

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