Grab the pen and write and write,
write from beginning to end.
Write about injustice that happened to you.
write about the pain that never healed.

Write about the silent pain you 
can’t do anything about.
Write about the dead body you held and
screamed as people watched you drown in sorrow.

Write about the body part you lost in an explosion
and when you buried an empty coffin.
Write and write—until
you can’t cry any more.

When your eyes are dried,
Your words shut down, 
The world is deaf to your voice,
blind to see you,

Grab the pen and write about you.
Write about your dream of peace and
about the better life lost to the war.
Write about your son who died in your hands.

Or write about your father who was killed in an explosion,
or about your daughter who was beheaded or
burned alive on the street.
Write about no justice.

Write about the men who wear a suit
and the face of a devil.
Write about how hopeless you feel inside.   
How you cried enough.

How you screamed enough. 
How the world is deaf now.
Write about how you live in hell 
with no name of religion and humanity,

where money comes before human life.
Put the power in your pen and
write about your history.
Let the world know
about your true identity,
about your true love and cares.
Fill the pages and papers,   
fill the books and shelves 

until your story can be read.
Until your voice can be heard
Until war stops. Grab the pen and write.
This is the power that is in your hand.

By Shogofa

The author is currently studying abroad. Photo by Martin Thomas.