Poem: Zambian Diary

[Meursault]

This is one of the first poems I ever wrote. I think it was written when I was 16, and so it is definitely a bit heavy-handed and rough but I still think it's okayyyy and one of the most interesting pieces I've written, albeit one of the worst written.

Zambian Diary
Dear Log...
A! Assumptions, as I start to wonder
What kind of consumption tears me asunder.
I can't understand what the doctors are saying.
I want to go back to life, learning and playing.
Cut off from my family, my school, and my church.
I pray it gets better, but it only gets worse...

Dear Log...
I! Infection. They say that's the word,
That I'm one of millions, just part of the herd.
And maybe that I could avoid infestation,
If I had been born in some other location.
But I had no choice, I was born where I stand,
And the flesh of my people provides fertile land
For this inhumane and unconquered condition
To run through our veins, and our toilets and kitchens.
God's on the way, and there's no use in running.
At least that's what they say...I don't think that he's coming...

Dear Log...
D! Ditches. They dig them in droves.
Stacking our bodies till the ditch overflows.
I have to help since the corpse is contagious,
Knowing that one day I'll be switching places
With this thin and malnourished poor shell of a person.
I'm making no progress, condition just worsens...

Dear Log...
S! Silence. The syndrome takes over.
T-cells and B-cells fall faster than soldiers.
I try to make peace through deep meditation,
Wishing that I could afford medication.
There's talk of new treatments and cures that they're hunting
But I am too poor, so my life is worth nothing.
If god's really coming, then he's coming too late.
I cry through closed eyes as I lie and I wait...