The river is running
The river of blood
Swallowing up, drowning
The kwashiorkor road
A finger on a trigger
Is going to pull one day
Mushroom clouds bigger
Than any from yesterday.
The time has come again
To learn how to survive
And stand alone in your pain
If only you are left alive
Children torn from parents
Friends and families will scatter
In wars between governments
Of people who think they matter.

Che Chidi Chukwumerije
Poems from the inner river