i think of Africa
and babies that will 
never see past their mother's 
outstretched hands
all is parched and human,
it is the looking that is tragic,
eyes that say -
see me, see that i live and want to live
and do not forget that i am you
being me, you were here 
with every famine reaching
back to the sea
i will forgive the callous and cruel 
spouting the sad language 
of too many people on Earth 
for they have not yet come 
to their famine
send me the same measure
that you grant for freedom and oil,
know that i also want to be free,
these are the words that i speak
through eyes that are closing,
know that my brief life 
was for you
 
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