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ADELAIDE Independent Bimonthly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Bimensal, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition  

 




 

 



 

 

 

 

 

LUNA
By Clint Davis

 

 

 

 

 

Speak for me
I am Luna, I was only Three,
this was what they done to me,
train ride with family,
no room to sit, only stand,
my legs so tired,
moma can you hold my hand?
No windows, I can't see out, all
the people all scream and shout, but,
only silence from me,
could someone please, speak for me?
through the cracks,
I try to see, everything that passes by me, I see tall trees,
grass blows in the wind, as we pass by,
so much thirst, my lips so dry,
legs so weak, can barely stand,
moma could you hold my hand?
this is what they done to me,
I am luna, was only Three,
tell everybody that you see,
tell them all, speak for me.
the wheels of the train,
sound so loud, when we stop, the
men in boots, begin to shout,
those with stripe suits, look down at the ground,
a terrible dog begins to growl,
they take my dad and brother away,
Mom and I, are led astray,
my legs are so weak, can barely stand,
moma could you hold my hand?
they take us to a room, with dark walls, with white scratches,
heavy doors, with loud latches, I can hear,
foot steps over head,
moma, can we go?, to another place instead?
they take my doll, and my clothes too,
moma, what have they done with my shoes?
so alone, with so many, so hungry, we look
so skinny.
we cry out! can God hear us?
we all know, death is near to us!
Its quiet now, no one is listening,
I am no longer here, is
Luna gone I fear!
but, I am only three, look what they have done to me!
oh, they pick me up, they take my hair,
its so pretty, dont they care?
put me in a little room,
with heavy doors, with loud latches,
they burn me, without any matches,
my name is luna, I was only three,
why did they do this, this terrible thing,
I was so precious, can't you see,
so tell everyone, tell them all,
tell all you see, please, speak,
speak for me,
so now they take poor luna out,
spread her ashes upon the ground,
gentle breeze blows her all around,
luna no longer makes a sound,
so quiet now... she wants to speak,
she can't now… her words don’t come out!
God takes her by the hand, he holds her near,
she says the words only he can hear.
I'm Luna, I'm only Three,
on a train, mother sits with me,
I clutch my doll,
I feel so free, I look to the window,
I can finally see, trees pass by us,
grass blows by the wind, so happy,
I no longer stand, My lips no longer dry,
my dad and and brother they look and smile,
though I try to speak, and I am finally free,
no words come from me, so won't you speak.
speak for me...

 




 




 

 

 

     
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