For Richard and Nazanin
They will starve, the world watching
His skin bruised by the years of
Loneliness and deprivation
Of his family.
———————–
Her song of a deathly fast
To cry for freedom and
To be with her loved ones
To walk to the park and
Play on the swings with her
Beautiful beloved daughter,
To work again and not
be terrorised by angry men
who want to ignore and bully
and break her spirit.
————————–
Where is the grace?
It is in them as they wait
whittling away the weeks
and their flesh, for their
freedom to be a family
is more that a piece of bread
but a gift to us all
of a sacrificial love
enduring extreme
agony.
