I write books and poetry
About the plight of suffering women
And I am celebrated
For my pen and verse
...
The carnage is still
In the breath of morning
But the embers of life
Are solace to screaming pain
...
To Yazidi Sisters
I write books and poetry
About the plight of suffering women
And I am celebrated
For my pen and verse
I have a website
Where my poetry
Is read and recited
I collect awards and prizes
Yet they are still suffering
Our daughters are raped
Our daughters are chained
Our daughters have lost their identity
Our daughters are shrouded
Our daughters are sold
For peanuts
Who will free them?
Mothers and fathers cry until
They have no more tears
Who hears the stifled screams?
Who sees the terror
In those Beautiful dark eyes?
The helplessness of a girl
Who just wants to live her life
With her family
In her home
Within her community
And in her country
Who will rescue them?
The free world has
The most sophisticated weapons
To rescue them
From such vileness
Yet a stony silence
Hangs on the world's lips
In the shadows
The Peshmerga ladies
Are helping to free their land
From darkness
In the shadows
Anonymous workers
With a heart which loves
Are rescuing
With hands and words
They are never in the news
Or on social media
Sometimes they die
A martyr's death
Celebrated by the desert
Or some lonely olive tree