Life in Pink, by a Prisoner in Rwanda

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Poetry from the Heart

This poem requires a slight introduction, it was written by an inmate, in Gitarama Prison, one of the most notorious prisons in Rwanda. This prison has been described by many human rights organizations as a place on earth worse than hell itself.

Another factor you should know, is that in Rwanda, prisoners are dressed in pink clothing. Life in Pink refers to life as a prisoner. Criminon which is referred to in the poem is a humanitarian organization that works with prisoners.

Life in Pink

It was a miserable day,
the accusations were closed.
Fully pink dressed
I cried as taken by a dose.

Facing the rejection of my case, I knew my future would be broken.
My plans keep on drying out
And where the hope is gone and maybe I will die.
Criminon visits me the moment I did not hope for anything.
With a cramped heart and jointed hands, an existing body but spirit far away.
Despair everywhere.

Criminon, life in pink!
It is time to have a look at the bright sight of life!
I have found the way to happiness, the way to change my life into better days!
Criminon yells life in pink!

Déo, your son will grow up, cover him with love!
He will build up a better world,
'Son of his father', they will say.
But he will end up as a great man.
I will not shout to him: 'get out of my way'!
I will rather guide him into this world.
That is how I will do it.
Criminon, life in pink!

Mother of my son, cry out in joy
I have nothing against you anymore, I believe in your loyalty.
And God, I follow my faith. You or nothing is my rule.
Criminon, life in pink!

The truth is my life, however the others shame on you.
Illegality is a cross, everyone who fails in it
ends up in prison, that's the rule, believe me.
No shelter, only you.
Criminon, life in pink!!!

I pray for God and I believe in him,
without judging the God of other ones.
Work is my support. Competence is my fruit.
I will live well, without any troubles.
Criminon, life in pink!!!

This planet is also mine! This planet and I have an alliance.
I do her good for my proper goodness.
Her prosperity is also mine.
Criminon, life in pink!

I wake up, where I am, Criminon is with me.
Even in pink, life is pink! No dose, I have the hope and I work.
It is tomorrow, the day out of these walls.
Criminon, life in pink!!!

J.N.U.
Prisoner, Gitarama prison


Written by a prisoner in Gitarama prison, find out more about this poem at http://www.squidoo.com/poetry-.

This poem can be used and republished providing a link is provided to the original post at http://www.squidoo.com/poetry-


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A Daughter, by Tom Fenning

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A Daughter

A daughter is someone

Soft and sweet

Lovable compassionate

And neat.

A daughter is a help

To Mom

Cleaning, cooking

Maintaining the home.

A daughter is

Dad's best friend

When he returns

From a hard days end.

A daughter

Helps with the sibs

Seeing that

They get their dibs.

A daughter knows

When tensions a brewing

And can deftly defuse

A fight from ensuing.

A home

Blessed with a daughter

Is a home

Well kept in order.

Written by Tom Fenning

Originally posted at Poems and Stories.

This poem can be used for free (non-commercial) as long as it is not altered and the author's name is included, and (if published online) a link is included to A Daughter.

Read More of Tom Fenning's Poetry


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Our Men in Iraq - by Tom Fenning

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Our Men in Iraq

I never was a soldier,
I know not
his plight to be.
I never slept in a tent
Or upon the ground,
because
I was a Navy man
And sailed the mighty sea.
Our mode of living
Quite different.
We did not sleep
Upon the deck
Our sacks were
Stacked quite high.
We never ate k-rations
Or meals in packages
Cooked outside.
When seas were calm
Food was eaten
Sitting down,
When Neptune turned nasty
It was sandwiches
All around.
We never feared roadside bombers,
Or anyone laded with TNT.
Our enemy was in the sky
And beneath us in the sea.
We knew our enemy.
They fought the same as we.
Soldiers of today
Know not his foe
Specters he cannot see.
Those he knows by day,
At night are enemy.
Shadows in the dark
Make our men in Iraq
An easy mark.

- Written by Tom Fenning
Originally posted at Poems and Stories

This poem can be used for free (non-commercial) as long as it is not altered and the author's name is included, and (if published online) a link is included to Our Men in Iraq.

Read More of Tom Fenning's Poetry


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The Dream - by Tom Fenning

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The Dream

Have you ever awakened

In the middle of the night

All sweaty and trembling

Shaking With fright?

Only to realize

It is just a bad dream

That woke you

With a loud scream.

Can you remember

The delight

As you returned

To pillow sleeping peacefully

The rest of the night?

Do you wonder

Why such dreams occur?

Was it something

In past life

Your memory bestirred?

The mind is a huge storehouse

With memories good and bad

Sometimes resurfacing in sleep

Making you scared.

- Written by Tom Fenning



Originally posted at Poems and Stories

This poem can be used for free as long as it is not altered and the author's name is included, and (if published online) a link is included to The Dream.

Read More of Tom Fenning's Poetry


http://freepoemsonline.blogspot.com
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I Love a Parade - by Tom Fenning

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I love a parade

The Memorial Day parade

Happy, yet a somber day,

Honoring those who gave their life

So all may

Enjoy

Basking in freedom and liberty

Free from strife.

The rat-tat tat of the drum

The toot toot toot of the horn

Brings out the innate

Love of a parade

To which every man was born.



The rod straight sight of the marchers

The twirlers so deft and true

The multi colored uniforms of the bands

And their sweet music thrills me through.



Our flag unfurled and steady

Stiffly waving in the wind

Brings a restful peace

To everyone from within.



Many of the marchers

Men and women

Who fought to make our country free

These are the ones who gained for us

Our right to liberty.



Boy scouts, girl scouts

Proudly marching in line

Showing their patriotic allegiance

On their way to adulthood

They’ll mature just fine.



Clowns and jesters

Grace their places

They add smiles

To children’s faces



Strings of cars

Line the parade

Politicians and dignitaries

Wildly wave

To potential voters

Watching the parade.



- Written by Tom Fenning


Originally Posted at Poems and Stories

This poem can be used for free as long as the author's name is included and (if published online) a link is included to I Love a Parade.

Read More of Tom Fenning's Poetry


http://freepoemsonline.blogspot.com
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Free Poem by Xavier Molina

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Would you accept they shot to a pregnant woman?
Do you seem better that first she would give birth and then kill her?
It would seem to you compassionate that the jailer adopted the creature?
If it wins you love to justice do not read on, you have things to do.

Would you support that somebody denounced the situation of the woman who shouts every night next door?
What would you do if pass the days and the denunciation does not come?
And if that someone had to be you?
If it wins you love for women do not read on, you have things to do.

Do you know that there are people who do not know if it is night or day because a hood covers always their head?
Would you calm knowing that they deserve punishment by terrorists and criminals?
Do you still thinks it is fair if tomorrow they put you the hood and could not even plead for innocence? ...and really are you?
If it wins you love for human rights, do not Keep reading, you have things to do.

Do you know that there are workers who sleep under the tables where they work?
Do You know that you buy things they produce because they are cheap?
Do you think they have holidays, decent wages, unions and social security?
If it wins you love for manufactured things do not read on, you have things to do.

Can you chute a ball sewn with bloodied hands of a small Indian boy?
Do you think that being a trivial game behind it everything is innocent?
Do you think at least he has a job and earn a salary?
If it wins you love for children, do not read on, you have things to do.

Do you give alms to beggars in the street?
Would you rather think that they did something bad to finish thus?
Would you refuse to give believing that many of them are part of charity's mafia?
If it wins you love to society, you can not continue reading, you have things to do.

If you've come this far and nothing touches you,
if you feel a simple gear without force,
if no other people's injustice mobilizes you,
this book will not be closed,
nor it will deny its words to you,
but you can not continue reading.
Because you're blind.


Written by Xavier Molina

Poem can be freely used mentioning the author (Xavier Molina), the book it comes from ('The love for manufactured things') or both. If you use this poem online, please include a link to this post as well.

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