Just so you know,

This soil is socked in blood and its mine.

All of it, the innocent, the frightened,

the maimed, the lives taken, humiliated,

de-humanised, disregarded and destroyed

This soil is socked in blood and its mine,

because I am made of this soil too.

The history is mine, the bridges burned,

the lines crossed, the very foundations shaken,

their stories are mine, the aftermath,

All of it is mine.

The anger is mine, the grief is mine,

this soil is soaked in the blood of my people,

The rain is their despair, the thunder is their

unanwered cry for help.

This. soil. is .soaked. in. the .blood. of.my .people. and. its .mine.

You may devise ways to revise and

distort their ordeal,

but the anger, the pain and grief is mine.

Beware, Be aware, with all that, we still breath

Never again means the soil is still fertile

with innocence and strength, bears fruits

of work, hope and resilience, Be afraid of me

and mine..all 12 million of them.

This soil is soaked in blood and its mine

There will no more.

Beware, Be aware. Believe Me.

Show your support

Clapping shows how much you appreciated S a m a n t h a’s story.