she has been crying for
a long time now
weeping for her children
her children burning in flames
My mother is now shrieking
and screaming with pain
her skin being ripped off
her bones breaking
she’s crumbling, disintegrating.
My mother’s crying
her body tore apart,
she’s being raped openly
bombed, she’s in flames.
She;s being torn apart
The whole world is seeing her being
and they’re all pretending to be blind
And she’s being torn apart
But yet the world pretends to be blind.
My mother’s tears have created their own ocean
And I the child, have found shelter
We’re safe in my mother’s tears
The world is too cruel
The world is deaf to our screams
The world is blind to our wounds
The world is dumb
In the distance,
a wall of debris.
Cold, damp, sunless,
An ode to all the
Those arrested in
How many have given up their lives due to the carelessness of others?
Aren’t we all just living some variation of the same story?
Why is it so easy to divide, judge, negatively compartmentalize?
Let us always remember each other’s humanness.
Then, maybe we will finally understand what it means to empathize.
In 1961, the conquering Soviet army built a concrete wall 140km long, dividing Berlin into two factions. German families were separated and hundreds of defectors were shot on sight as they tried to escape East Berlin and the communist government of the USSR.
In 1987, David Bowie traveled to the Berlin Wall for a concert attended by thousands of people on each side of the wall. This taste of Western freedoms and music sparked riots in East Berlin and an anti-Soviet sentiment began to surge. In 1988, Bruce Springsteen performed in East Berlin, further inspiring the East German people to protest their confinement.
November 9, 1989, the Berlin wall finally fell, uniting Berlin and Germany for the first time in almost 30 years.
Did art fell the wall? The German Foreign Office thinks so. When David Bowie died in 2016, they tweeted “Good-bye, David Bowie. You are now among #Heroes. Thank you for helping to bring down the #wall.”
War and oppression cannot win while artists protest. Art matters. Believe that.
And believe this also:
Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.
Walking through the ashes of what used to be lives
Not a person alive in sight
They fought this fight every day
Now they’ve gone away years before their time
Committed no crime but living
Cried cries that will never be heard
Can you hear that sound?
Can you see that person begging?
Can you feel their pain? Continue reading Forgotten People