Leandra Gebrakedan Poems

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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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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Diaspora

Don't ask me what is the most painful, losing friends I'd known forever
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I returned home, the place of my birth
The soldiers left, but blood was soaked into the earth

Every corner was a face of despair
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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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