Home

Home is where the heart is

at least that’s what they say 

but in this place there is nothing, 

but rape rain and decay

 

I saw my sister at a distance 

and came up running fast 

after which I was beaten bloody

bashed and torn apart

 

At night I hear the screams 

from the room across the hall

terrified, I await my turn

on that burnt out wooden floor 

 

Yesterday, I held the hand of a young but dying girl

her face pale and sullen

till her fingers began to curl 

 

I looked for her grave 

to find out her name

but she lay in the ground markless,

her family never came

 

The river ran relentless 

its arms an unforgiving crushing net, 

we were made to stand and watch 

as the boy took his last breath

 

How long must I stay in this place?

a place I don’t belong 

away from my family 

 a ghost inside of me 

witnesses tragedy after tragedy

 

I used to have a friend,

who taught me to be strong

she’d wipe away my tears 

 

I remember the sound 

though I haven’t found, much else to fill this void

with each breaking glass

I recall the past, and scream, my life destroyed

 

Home is where the heart is 

at least that’s what they say 

but in that place there was nothing 

but rape rain and decay 

 

 

© Kay Channon

June 2018