My strange world

Collage poem

My Strange World

Running but my feet cannot move,

screaming but there were no sound,

My world became dark,

They said they were coming for me,

I could hear their footsteps behind,

I could hear their voices,

I could see their eyes but not their face.

The streets were red,

The bodies laid haphazardly,

So I laid down silently,

But I could hear their voices in my head.

He also began running at the sound of the gun,

His name was Feyisa lilesa.

At the end of the race he held his hand high,

A crossed wrist he made

His hands said, I am an Oromo.

We are the people of Ethiopia,

But they do not see us as such

They persecuted us like animals

But we stand still with our cross wrists

Because we are the Oromo people.

We all have dreams,

Dreams that are almost palpable,

they make sweat trickle down our faces,

Make our hearts beat fast,

And make our world strange.

This is how I see my natural world,

Looking out the window I dream to see paradise,

But what I see is terrorized,

Instead of flowers on the street,

I see the still faces of people.

Instead of hearing laughter,

I hear the cries of pain,

And instead of children playing around,

I see them laying on the ground.

What is my natural world? They asked

I do not have one,

Because in this world I live in,

I want the horror to be whisked away forever.