Children Locked Away

They grew up in my neighborhood
but I can't say I knew them well
Beautiful young girls, young women now
Libya with dark wide eyes
Algeria always smiling
Angola the shy one, suddenly gone
Remembering Namibia, slender and quiet
Somalia, who always knew my name
Liberia, the one who so loved flowers
Ghana, a child full of games
And Kenya, Zambia, Nigeria, a blur
of flashing eyes and giggled grins

Young women from different families
a little Brit, a little French
some Portuguese, perhaps a smudge
of German and Italian
All dark skinned girls, the mix
gave them a haunted exotic beauty
I walked that way to share their childhood
the whole street brightened in a swirl
of new dresses and girlish laughter
Yet they were serious as well, trusting
as young girls will, on their way
to becoming the lovliest of women

Now suddenly they're gone from us, locked away
into a dark house, it's windows shuttered
unlit and decaying, a house called Africa
I walked that street for a while, looking
hoping they'd be out in sunshine
to greet me, smile and dart away
I hear them scream from upstairs rooms
tear stained bloodied faces looking out
then curtains all snatched shut and darkness
I'd kick down the doors, excepting for the fear
of the raped children I might find there
So I've forgot their names and walk another street