Oh, how you have suffered.
Child of infidelity, war, and poverty--
Abandoned by those you loved most,
By those who were supposed to love you back.
Baby sister when I met you,
They said your days were numbered.
Parasites, disease, malnutrition--
The list never seemed to end,
Nor did the hospital visits.
And yet, you got better--
“A real fighter,” they called you.
Your biggest battle hadn’t even begun.
Darling child, you carry the weight of a nation.
The deaths of thousands.
The lives of seventeen siblings.
Epidemic, followed by war, followed by epidemic…
It’s no wonder your screams rage like hellfire.
Sweet sister, you scream for your people.
For a childhood ended before it began.
For those you left behind and those who left you first.
You scream of the worst pain-- of never knowing why.
Angel of April showers and clouded days,
Of heavy heart and unjust burden,
I cannot soothe your wounds.
I cannot explain the sins of your father,
I cannot give you peace.
Oh, child of betrayal and loss,
You are not alone.
Though you cannot see it,
Nor feel it,
I grip your hand and wipe your tears.
I hear your screams and whisper,
I love you.