After Katie Hale

Our dove has flown for sixty years

But she still hasn’t moved a mile

Not to talk of reaching her shore

In the armpit of our dwelling

(We hide our hairy shame)

When peace visited our faces

We served him poisoned food

It is left for a mother

To let her children walk in the dark

And we have burnt our shade of peace

With smiles painted on our faces

We took the honey of our land

The storm rose like heavy noise

Rain enveloped the land

But we never lost our glory

We enjoyed amnesty in surplus

Under the canopy of our leader

We sleep in peace, opening our hands

And sacrifice for our stomach idol

Our bird has flown for sixty years

But she is still testing her wings