Every Tragedy Writes A Poem
written by: Gatreak Chiang Reath
It’s not poets who write sad poems
It’s not poets who cry in black papers.
It’s the stain left by tears of those who plead
Yet their pleas fall on deaf ears.
Tragedy befalls papers when it claims souls
Tragedy clouds the vision of even the village’s gods.
I fear revealing my identity,
But a poem I wrote when I was young
Treads in my heart and leaves me open.
I am a child who was born in the wamps of war
Nurtured in the dark and surrounded by demons.
I listen to the voices of my dead ancestors
Calling from underground
Telling me to resist
But to resist means to accept death
So I escaped death and hid in this poem
But I fear this poem will reveal who I am
Poems are the typical examples of “Everything
Hidden will eventually come to light.”
Shall I dwell in the delight of postponing my
Supposed death?
This is a question only the gods can answer
The gods are watching over me
The gods are watching over kids in Nasir
Who wake to gunships
And find nowhere to herd their sheep
The gods are watching women in Ulang
Who fold dead infants around their numb arms.
The gods are watching over this country
Whose elites delight over their citizens’ death.
The yellow sun remains the only consolation
Of kids trying to force silent miles
Kids whose mothers go miles in search of bread
But end up succumbing to another village’s vengeance and
Hate.
Every tragedy writes a poem
Every wanderer eventually finds a home.
- Every Tragedy Writes A Poem - March 27, 2025
