Flat breasted women
Suckle babies at milkless breasts.
Pot bellied black people walk
Skeletally on stiltlike legs -
Bowls clutched tightly in swollen hands.
A clean shaven, overweight newsman
Walks past the barely living and the very dead.
Corpses are carried in sackcloth coffins
To their final resting places
In red, dry earth.
Bodies waste thinner,
Flies grow fatter,
Eating decaying flesh
Seen by visionless eyes.
I sit shaken, unable to assist
Whilst I finish off my take-away Korma,
Rounded off with a Wall's Cornetto!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a sad yet realistic poem of the situation in Sudan. What is ironic is that when i was trying to click in the comment box to comment on your poem, i got sent to the weight watchers banner next door to the comment box. A very poignant piece, thank you for sharing.