Land was red with blood
Tears flowed like a flood
Life shadowed with fear
With sorrow very deep
Cause it was taken away
As something very cheap
Trust was long gone
Gave its way for differences
In the time of hatred
In those hundred days
As if they do not share
From same land the same face
Millions went away
In those hundred days
What good are conferences?
What good is human right?
After they are all gone
By deep rooted spite
Whose story is it?
Those, to stop it who failed
Or those who orchestrate
Or those who kept quiet
Wanting the scene probably
To be part of the world history
Or those who perished
To live as united being unable
What was done was done
In the month of April
There in Rwanda…
Fasika Ayalew
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/100-days/
