Poem of the Week: Freedom

I’ve been watching and reading the news for the past several days, and I’m shocked and extremely saddened by the situation in Afghanistan. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to have everything you’ve known, the freedom’s you’ve come to know, the life you’ve led, be torn away and all you can do is run or hide. It’s horrifying.

As a woman, as someone who was born in Britain, and with a family history of going back centuries of living in Europe… I am utterly grateful for the freedoms and privileges I have. But I am keenly aware of those privileges. They have been fought for over the centuries, and we only have to look back a few hundred years to see how much has been fought for, what women have died for, what has changed in the country to be what it is today.

And it’s not perfect, let’s be honest. There’s things that still need to change. We need to be more environmentally-conscious as a start – the whole world will be affected if we don’t – it’s already being affected, what with wildfires, extreme weather, famine and drought. I regularly donate to Greenpeace in the hopes that some of that will help, besides trying to be more sustainable. But ultimately, I live in a very nice area of the country, in a peaceful country, with the chances and privileges that have been risked for and fought for, available to me without me having to worry about it.

But knowing that there are thousands upon thousands of people right now, displaced because of a terrorist group overtaking Kabul and Afghanistan as a result, of women trapped and terrified of what will happen, it sends a cold shock down my spine. It honestly makes me shudder.

And so I wanted to write something about it. To say something about it, even if I don’t know if I should. Do I have the right to talk about something that I’m not experiencing, even if I’m reading and watching it in the media? I’m not sure. But I wrote a poem anyway. It’s more about the women’s experience I suppose, how the generations in this country have stood up for their rights over the centuries, but also how my (and my female ancestors) experience differs, and how I relate it to this moment in time. But truly it’s a poem all about freedom. I’m not sure if what I wrote completely gets across how I’m feeling, but I tried.

I have donated to the Red Cross for Afghanistan, but I’m sure there’s more I could do. I’ve found a few sites that are trying to help, both for women, and the situation as a whole:

Anyway… here’s my poem for this week. I hope you like it, and please send me your honest comments. 


I’m crying, aching inside
Feeling like freedom’s died
In a land seemingly far away
And I find I have no words to say

On our land we have lived for centuries
Growing stronger, brave, and wise
Here we stand now beyond the pyre flames
Singing loud against these war games

I watch the skies, grateful for peace
Here in this little corner, this niche
But there are lands torn apart
To win against violence, how do we start?

For some of us it took generations
I hope that’s not the case for other nations
The price we paid was steep indeed
We thank all those who planted the seed

So shout for freedom, rise for equality
Stand together, all one, for solidarity
Because that freedom can be lost
Across the world, we know the cost

There’s a fight now that we must win
For freedom and truth, it is no whim
I close my eyes and send my thoughts wide
Because I know I’ve always chosen my side.

Kate @ Kandid Chronicles x

P.S. feel free to comment about the poem, and share your thoughts/poetry/writing too, as well as any other resources you feel would help support and aid Afghanistan in their time of need.


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