Foud this while looking through one of my more personal files on the computer...
In his poem "From Iraq", Michael Rosen wrote:
We are the unfound
We are uncounted
You don't see the homes we made
We're not even the small print or the bit in brackets . . .
because we lived far from you . . .
because you have cameras that point the other way . . .
We are the unfound
We are uncounted
You don't see the homes we made
We're not even the small print or the bit in brackets . . .
because we lived far from you . . .
because you have cameras that point the other way . . .
Comments 1
We have no mouths
We evaporated
You don’t see the holes in the ground where we were put
We are the unfound
We are uncounted
You don’t see the homes we made
We’re not even the small print or the bit in brackets.
You see less of us than you see of the dust
You see less of us than you see of the wind
Because we were somewhere else,
because we lived far from you,
because our minutes, hours, days and years did not last as long as yours,
because you have cameras that point the other way,
because you talk about other people…
…Of that moment when we went
you can’t even say you missed it.
Nor did you talk about us when Saddam the Indefatigable killed us.
Nor did you worry much about the Kurds then.
Nor about Marsh Arabs.
Nor do you now worry about all of those who voted.
Nor about the Unions.
Nor about the children, your friends whose friends have bombed us
have bombed and will keep on bombing.
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