do you remember the bird
flying over the barbed-wire
cage we were herded
through on our way
into the camp?
i was sitting indian-
style at dawn when
i heard it out through the
empty window frame
singing in the dry dust
its chirps rang hollow
like freedom and
vaccuous like the weather
seems to be
i saw the grave you
made for our baby
i would have cried
if this thing hadn’t
ever attatched itself behind
my face
ribbon of awarness
pulling like tape
i’m begging for a transfer
into your cabin
i think it’s going to get me killed
even so i’ll never leave you
just think of me
and i’ll be there
i will be as still
as possible when
they come for me
a little less still
once they leave
just think of me
and we’ll be free
(JWSC)
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I think this should be a song.