Papa’s Tormentors

The men in blue

Have taken my father away again.

The men,

With shiny badges on their chests,

Pushed him into their cop car.

Lights flashing too bright,

Sirens too familiar.

Red and blue

Glowing in his dark, dark eyes.

 

“Criminal!” the men shouted,

Too loud.

What do they even mean?

I ask mama;

She sighs.

 

The men who took my father

Were different.

This time,

They hurt him.

Mama begged them

To be kind,

She complains they made

My baby sister cry.

 

But I see tears

On her face too.

“Don’t cry, mama”

My fingers reach hers.

 

“Dad’s gonna be alright,”

She says.

But her eyes are on the window once more,

And I can see the reflection

In the glass.

“Do you hear me?”

She asks,

I do.

Leocardia Wanjira