Darfur.
So I wrote this a few weeks ago after going to the speak out against hate crime. Sometimes I feel so useless. Like changing the world is impossible...Anyways the problem in Darfur is real. And it is happening while the thoughts of Rwanda are still fresh in our minds...how is this possible? How can we as a country as humans let it happen again? If you don't know what's going on check out the website. www.SaveDarfur.org.
Spring 2006
“Chirping”
The sun is shining. The radiance of the light rays reflects off the blond hair flapping behind me. My skin glows as the warm beams seep into every exposed pale pore. My cheeks are slightly flushed from the sun painting its gentle heat upon them. The stream nearby speaks softly as the water runs down its designated path. Everything is alive. The birds are chirping. The birds are Chirping.
You can hear the hum of the hearty motors no longer afraid to bear the rough rocky roads. The snow is gone everything is exposed. Music and laughter come from open windows filling the noisy streets. The melodic honks are songs to my ears as the cars chirp by. As the cars chirp by.
The flag sharply snaps back and forth. Lonely leftover leaves of the year past whirl by. The newly budding tree flashes hints of cotton white blossoms. They look just like the scattered clouds in the sky. Everybody walks by enjoying the springtime air, talking incessantly. They all chirp on the way by. They all chirp on the way by.
No birds, no blossoming trees; only the fiery scorching sun. Yet it is springtime. The skin is dry and cracked. Blood runs from many veins. Rivers are strewn with rancid rotting corpses. The flies are buzzing. The flies are buzzing.
The hungry sound of empty jeeps come lurching through the streets. Screams from children are barely audible through closed windows. They are exposed to violence and brainwash. The sad suffering cries of families rings through the streets. The jeeps are filled to the brim and they buzz away. The jeeps buzz away.
No flag to unite. No hope in sight. People scatter to save their lives. Their cries for help go unheard as if they were being muffled by white cotton sheets. They are a scattered people trying to find a safe path to end the horrific hate. To end what some are afraid to talk about. What some are afraid to call genocide. They are an annoying conscience. Innocent lives are taken everyday. Their lives buzz away. Their lives buzz away.
Spring 2006
“Chirping”
The sun is shining. The radiance of the light rays reflects off the blond hair flapping behind me. My skin glows as the warm beams seep into every exposed pale pore. My cheeks are slightly flushed from the sun painting its gentle heat upon them. The stream nearby speaks softly as the water runs down its designated path. Everything is alive. The birds are chirping. The birds are Chirping.
You can hear the hum of the hearty motors no longer afraid to bear the rough rocky roads. The snow is gone everything is exposed. Music and laughter come from open windows filling the noisy streets. The melodic honks are songs to my ears as the cars chirp by. As the cars chirp by.
The flag sharply snaps back and forth. Lonely leftover leaves of the year past whirl by. The newly budding tree flashes hints of cotton white blossoms. They look just like the scattered clouds in the sky. Everybody walks by enjoying the springtime air, talking incessantly. They all chirp on the way by. They all chirp on the way by.
No birds, no blossoming trees; only the fiery scorching sun. Yet it is springtime. The skin is dry and cracked. Blood runs from many veins. Rivers are strewn with rancid rotting corpses. The flies are buzzing. The flies are buzzing.
The hungry sound of empty jeeps come lurching through the streets. Screams from children are barely audible through closed windows. They are exposed to violence and brainwash. The sad suffering cries of families rings through the streets. The jeeps are filled to the brim and they buzz away. The jeeps buzz away.
No flag to unite. No hope in sight. People scatter to save their lives. Their cries for help go unheard as if they were being muffled by white cotton sheets. They are a scattered people trying to find a safe path to end the horrific hate. To end what some are afraid to talk about. What some are afraid to call genocide. They are an annoying conscience. Innocent lives are taken everyday. Their lives buzz away. Their lives buzz away.