“Divide it among nobody!”
they say,
“Share it with the numbers!
Feed it to the armies that await!
Don’t let the dead starve in their graves-
For they hunger and thirst most of all.
Let the water grace their lips!
Let the it splash upon the despised desert
that once was a field full of flowers.
Let food fill the stomach with a stormful sea!
Let their harbor rest in peace!
For they hunger like a haggard man holding on for hope.
Let them take a breathe and exhale it.
Let their lungs fill with life so they can shout and sing!
Let their brains buzz and be, so ours no longer must!
-For only they have the notes and the lyrics to sing what once was dear!
For they only can sing the long forgotten years!
Let us not forget their voices in vain!”
they shout,
“why should we let their bare bones be satisfied in their somber slumber?
For they only are in alive in a memory,
Only awake in one’s sleep-
And even those shall cease to be!”
They say,
“Please listen to our candid pleas.
We speak for those who do not speak.
Their whispers only leave a faint trace of beguile on a painted cheek
that grow quieter and quieter still.
For they wish to be more than teachers
whose mistakes and triumphs are showcased for all to see.
They wish to be more than di’en.
They wish to be alive like you and me.”
They were wrong.