Misery On the Road to Aleppo
I'm barely able to walk the road;
My starving child in tow.
The horrors of this journey must be told.
Notice the footprints
In Armenian blood.
Our suffering visible
As if it were written in bold.
Our men were hastened away
From the Turkish Army into labor battalions.
Girls and women were raped and beaten every day
And gone were our money and possessions.
Sick, dazed, and exhausted,
We are forced to continue the path.
Those of us who protested
Were killed by the Turkish or Kurdish wrath.
Bodies of my fellow Armenians
Floating in the waters,
Victims of the Turkish Ottoman,
Just another name for murderers with orders.
Stripped of my clothes and dignity,
My skin turning black from the sun,
Forced to make this journey,
There is nowhere to run.
Masked as deportation,
It is genocide, extermination,
Of 1.5 Million Armenians,
Leaving many wandering orphans
And the echoes of fired guns.
Bodies on both sides
Of the road to Aleppo,
My child who does not understand, cries,
And our fate,
I do not know.
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My Short Story: Birds of a Feather
