Asha Ibrahim Dhuhulow Poem by David Taylor

Dear Asha only thirteen years,
just words I have
and words too late.
Each letter formed with love
and written with black tears.
Dear Asha how could they do
what I heard they did too you.
Asha only thirteen years,
only in our hearts
we now can hold your childlike hand,
now you are free,
your body buried in those brutal lands.

Those stones themselves must weep.
God I command you
make them weep!
God never would or could
ever stoop so low,
to let those stones kill you
blow by blow;
but it seems he did.
Why did you give man free will
if man can do such evil things?

Dear Asha only thirteen years,
how can men be so,
that they would kill you
blow by blow?
Asha if you can hear
I just want you to know
I truly hold you in my heart.
I know it's too late Asha
to save you from your fate.
Asha Ibrahim Dhuhulow
the world weeps;
and you will never know.