This Poem Is Called Gloss Poem by Leandra Gebrakedan

I returned home, the place of my birth
The soldiers left, but blood was soaked into the earth

Every corner was a face of despair
Once proud people, belonging nowhere

Displaced is the title they're given
Men, boys, girls and women

I can't cry, how can I help?
A question I ask myself

The government hasn't stepped up, how can Britain be expected to
Dear God, what can I do

I've been back a couple of months, I'm still confused
Following Genocide, can they survive anymore abuse

Neglected, by soo many, the pain so real
I want more people to care, and know how they feel

I've called this poem GLOSS
Genocide, Leaves Openly Scared Souls

Because politicians gloss over the reality, gloss over the facts
That humans are living in tents bitten by rats

That hunger and death is an everyday occurrence
With talks, and screams are referred as a disturbance

We don't want to seem ungrateful of the Pretoria agreement
Respectfully I am grateful of the achievement
But not enough to be silenced, in the name of appeasement