This is a candle for those who died
without flames and flowers by the roadside
anonymous, just long smears of blood,
just shattered bones fallen on the mud
and not even one column inch worldwide.
This is a petal on the stream, offered
for those silent voices no longer heard;
those who fell in and yet, sank like stone
and no-one came in search or to mourn
and the world just rushed past without a word.
This cannot be a poem, we have no rhymes
that can sum the injustices of our times -
it's just a pair of hands to cup the last sighs
of those forced to stop breathing; otherwiseno lines can bring themselves to describe the crimes.