Fear

Fear
When all consuming
Saps all mobility from limbs
Removes the ability to make
Even the softest sound.
So it was in silence
That he killed her
Repeatedly killed her.
You can die many times
In thirty seconds.
When he left
To continue with his living
She found a tiny shred
Of life within her.
She stretched it out
Thin and taut
To fit the shape
Of who she had been.
Because the shape was the same
No one noticed she had gone.
So she fed the brittle remains
With normality and routine,
And the remnant began to grow,
To fill her shape more naturally
To fit her life more comfortably.
But she always knew
That it might tear again
And leave the shell
Without a soul.

In Zambia we saw a truck full of boys driving around town. They were banging on the sides of the truck, like a drum beat. We were told that it was part of a funeral.

African Funeral

Bang away the anger
Beat away the pain.
Another friend is gone now
Another brother slain.
Riding on the truck top
Travelling thro’ the dust,
Black voices shouting,
Hard thumping palms.

Bang away the anger
Beat away the fear.
Driving round the town now,
Funeral service tears.
Lowered in the ground now,
Covered with red mud,
More goodbyes spoken
Heart rending done.

Bang away the anger
Beat away the pain.
Disease has claimed it’s victim,
Disease has won again.
Hatred in our hearts now,
Sorrow fills our eyes.
So quickly taken,
More broken lives.

Tearfund Poems

A few years ago I was fortunate enough to visit Zambia and Mumbai, India.

I loved India, though every time I ventured from the hotel I found every sense was bombarded! Almost too much colour and noise and smell and warmth and life.

In Zambia I saw that lives which were lived very differently to my own shared the common bond of loving family and striving for our children.

Both countries have huge problems. In Mumbai, many women are trapped in prostitution or abusive relationships. In Zambia, life expectancy is 35, due to AIDS. We did not see many people older than us and many families are left without parents, uncles or aunts.

Tearfund works in both of these countries. Look on tearfund.org for more details.

More poems, articles and stories at: anneethompson.com