Mother,
what shall I do
When they put a gun in my hand?
Mother, I’m asking you;
Help me to understand.
what shall I do
When they put a gun in my hand?
Mother, I’m asking you;
Help me to understand.
My country,
tell me true
If I pour out my blood
What will it do for you?
Will it make you strong and good?
Sweetheart,
if I am killed
Because I am whole and sound
Will a weakling father your child
When I am underground?
God,
when they took your son
And nailed him to a tree
Why didn’t you give him a gun
Like the one they’re handing me?
[Unpublished.]
All of Sibyl’s poetry published to date on this website can be seen in these posts:
