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Johannesburg, Gauteng, South Africa
I am a white African. Contradiction in terms? I think not. Sometimes my blog will be serious; sometimes sad; sometimes irreverent; sometimes witty; always my truth simply written.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Shackled Regret

fifteen ramadan’s
measured
cadre ouma’s life when
four hours
almost claimed it

fierce gun battle
between militant villagers
and armed oppressors;
bloody skirmish, hand grenade;
spear broken beyond repair

blinded
by shrapnel,
young back
pierced and
ripped by bullets

barely alive with chest
shredded, ouma’s request
to be killed was rejected;
nursed back to health
only to be taken, shackled,

sensory-deprived, to where
no man, woman
or child
could ever feel
human again

incarcerated and tortured
war crimes tribunal
label: murderer and terrorist
apology rejected
child soldier learned too late

the nature of war is death


(All rights reserved)
Based on the true story of a child soldier, this is the companion poem for an opinion piece at http://myfatoldsouthafricanlife.blogspot.com entitled When Murder is not Murder.

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