tonight
there are
many things
i do not
understand
especially
how i can
sit here
thousands of
miles away
from horrors
about to
take a shower
while others
wash teargas
from their eyes
pull on
pajamas
while others
remove their
clothes and
inspect their
bodies for
bruises from
rubber bullets
perhaps read
a book before
sleeping
while others
will pore over
the long list
of rights
they’ve been
denied
tomorrow
i will wake
into a new day
while too many others
lay in graves
i sit here
feeling that
these words
are both meaningless
and terribly
necessary
that a chorus
is made up of
many small voices
and at some point
somehow
they will all
coalesce enough
that the cries
for justice
will be answered.
narinda heng 