What We Learned At School

Your words echo in the brush
of Latin American jungles
with the piercing screams
that you have learned not to hear.

Lessons from the north are
repeated like a drill.
The officer’s shout commands these
hands that hold another’s life.

A clearing fills with noise,
panicked, fearful, the last tears,
only to be followed by
death silence of corpses.

Dissenting voices swept away
beneath the tree branch leaves.
Scarlet stains left unspoken
with the deep, dark earth.

Your words echo in the brush
of Latin American jungles
with the piercing screams
that you have learned not to hear.

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