Leandra Gebrakedan

International Woman’s day


The war has taken its toil on us
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Do not mistake my compassion for weakness
Don't be fooled, by my smiles and sweetness

For those of us, who work within the charity field
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Do you need to go to church, to be a ‘Good Christain', I say No

Before the tongues go a wagging, proclaiming "I told you so"
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August 1965, Marquette Frye
In the hands of the police did die

Fifty five years later, can you tell me what has changed?
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Morning I am a published poet. I have never written as to how I feel about being childless
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Torn

Never have I been so torn
Since a baby I was born
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Remember the lines on the song by Bruce Hornsby it goes like this'Hey little boy, you can't go where the others go
'Cause you don't look like they do'
Said, 'Hey old man, how can you stand
To think that way?
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Here is my words previously about charity
Included in my poem do not mistake my compassion for weakness
I wanted to expand on it for clarity
And completeness
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Here I stand surrounded by dark soulless eyes alone
Here I stand without a place to call home

My only solace at the end of the day is my bed
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Short in stature, big heart
To write at tribute, where do I start

You gave your time, so selflessly
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In Gods eyes I will do no wrong
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