Beautiful Clay
by freakynewchild
I was born refined and pure
I was born refused and denied
All in all I was born, memories full
The sun hardened my form, while the moon pulled me round
Do not shake me too hard
deep within, I carry sounds of firing guns, mortars and tanks
loud and heavy.
Give me time to grow up and understand the haste to kill and
the ethnic difference in my thirteen year old body-
wounded and agonizing in the open grave.
Rage and fear squeezes my soul,
dulled and sullied
What to make of all this sorrow? and the night slipping inside me
such as a scabious dog to which stones are thrown
and seeks to die further away in a ditch.
So that war may leave me,
I would have liked to become aerial
run away and float under a sun that wouldn’t blush my cover
But, the void does not color, only the moon that nothing
disgusts shine through the living slum.
When the wind comes and blows the dust off me
the pain will finally be gone
So let us not mourn together anymore
all that will never be,
all that howls breathless and alone through the night.
