Watch my back and see the red strips <br />The red spots where the tongue of fire <br />Tortured me in the midst of fear and anxiety <br />Look at my face and see bruises done by no one <br />Else than the kind cruel mortal strangers <br />With burning fierce passion of wickedness <br />They killed our brothers and sisters and <br />Abducted our young girls to humiliate them and <br />Ridicule our country in the face of the world. <br />My legs wobbled and I cried every minutes <br />With no one to look in my direction for care <br />Under the oak tree we lay awake waiting <br />Waiting for the destruction yet unfulfilled <br />Fears built hut in our heart and love sounds stupid <br />When are we going to die? <br />Whose turn to die? <br />Whose hands shall we die? <br />Who would kill us all, by hand or bomb? <br />Our bellies had dried up yet they see it not <br />Our skins smell horribly yet they enjoyed it <br />Watch the signs in my air, watch it <br />Look back, back and front and behold our pains <br />Our children are brutalized yet they were given bitterleaf <br />Water to drink, drink with smile and joy <br />The candle flame gone astray for they give us no light <br />But the dryness could only be seen in our lips. <br />Who shall rescue us from this inhuman? <br /> The messiah is yet to come with his archangel <br />Are we all going to die before he comes? <br />We need a little breathe of fresh air <br />And the casting off those signs in us<br /><br />john chizoba vincent<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/signs-of-torture/
