Of Your House, Barbarian! (POEM)


Who hears when her soul whimpers,
Who listens to the cracking sounds of her breaking heart,
Who sees her falling tears,
Who hears echoes of her groaning voice,
Who has ever imagined the feel of her aching scars?
None, none but herself.
She is not the child on a street vendors back,
She is not that street child you pass by,
She is not that old lady at the neighbor's,
Nor is she that battered wife in the newspaper,
But it is that woman, your mother whom you no longer heed,
She is your wife whom you've abandoned,
It is that young girl you are plucking away from education to marry off,
It is them from your very house.

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