i am writing the story down of a Sudanese Lost Boy who works with me. he is a poet but doesnt have the poems down in English yet, and i am attempting to transcribe--meaning these are his words and my line spacing, etc. i think he is an amazing poet!
Why is it me? By Akol Ayii Madut
I was born welcome
to the world
To the womb I was
innocent and welcome
The sun rises up
black with blood
The same blood flows
down into the ground
Once, the villages burned
Nobody is going back now
I look to the sky and see black
raindrops of blood
Why is it me?
I see East Africa—the blood flows
I look from the North and the blood
is flowing, same as the East
No one can speak to one another
Why me?
I look from the South and
it is same as the East
I look from the West,
it is the same blood flowing
I was born welcome
to the world
Our families were ready
to bring us to the world
I don’t have much love
I carried the gun and
missed my family
Every day I am smelling blood
What are you going to do? (Sleep)
