Tears of horror
Tears of horror
By Atok Dan
As tears trickle down my cheeks,
my face horrifies in aloofness
My face fickle with tears of death
I dare not to say it,
but dare to sympathize on horrors of others
We called each other generation of horrible experiences
Generation of starved skeletons
Generation that survives on the legumes in camps
With unfathomable expressions on our faces,
We still live in abundance love
We still share half empty glass of murky waters
Even on the edge of death bed
Our faces still seen unflappable
We still laugh though survive on alms
Even on the roots of wild elms
They called us generation of legumes
They called us children of beans
We emerged strong but a generation that exploited generosity
We were not just blues, yellows or even green
But our collective identity remains red
We fought battles but not battles of cattle
We fought hunger with anger
We hooded the horn for battle but at childhood
We did it more than our parents but perennially
For those in danger, we extend our hands of gratitude
For those in risked, we risked to rescue them
For those that underestimated us, we overjoyed them with enthusiasm
Without tires on our feet, our tiny feet traveled deserts, valleys, mountains and swamps
Without clothes on our backs, we sacrificed our hard black skins to cold and heat
Our melanin were baked more blackish
Our teeth and hands were molded into hammers for breaking hard objects
We sleep walk slipping off rough roads like a patient in agony in sick bed
Atok Dan is a media specialist working in Juba, South Sudan. He is reached at atokbaguot
Atok Dan
Radio Production Specialist
USAID/Economic Governance Project in South Sudan
atokdan@dcopllp.com
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