Reflecting once again on the image of Tabatha
tears filled my eyes sliding down reddened cheeks
their progress only halted, just for an instant,
by horizontal lines that criss-crossed my face.
Tabatha's voice came floding back to me
her waves of passion and compassion overwhelming,
here was someone who believed with her soul,
for her Zimbabwe and the rights of her fellow sisters.
Like the many who listened on that day I had wept
my body unable to control the emothions I felt.
I remember the unlikely inner commitment I made
go, spread the word, raise awareness
...... As a Man of Mooncups!
Brave Tabatha
Though raped, tortured and abused
Supports sister's rights
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem