It was an outrage.
The weaver on the
loom was brutalized.
A design was raped.
The color screams,
I want to live.
Septicaemia spreads.
Time to be ashamed,
when your gut was removed.
The salt hurts on
the bitten lips. A
genome falters.
Let me try to define─
who we are; and
where we are going.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem