The Look Upon Her Face

I was surfing through the channels when I came to P.B.S.,  
who would have known it was to cause me such  
Emotional Distress.  
 
A true story of Ethnic Cleaning in a Country call Rwanda,  
where were all the Protesters, where was Jane Fonda.  
 
They had quickly changed the channel so they would not have to see,  
that those who let it happen represented you and me.  
 
I know that millions die each year from War, Hunger, and Disease,  
I have seen the ads a thousand times, help us won't you Please.  
 
So why I kept on watching is a mystery to me,  
I should have tuned into M.A.S.H. on channel 53.  
 
They said there was No Oil in the ground,  
No Strategic Minerals to be found.  
 
The location offered us No Military Need,  
No Corporate Cash crops to fuel our Greed.  
 
They  buy No Computers, Cokes, or Cadillacs,  
Hell, their just a lot of Dirt Poor Blacks.  
 
The White Man's Burden we once tried to meet,  till they dragged Our Boys through the street,  
and that is one Mistake we shall not repeat.  
 
So The One's who proudly wore the Blue Beret,  
climbed into their trucks and Drove Away.  
 
The look upon that Young Girl's Face begging them Please stay,  
still Haunts My Soul each and every day.  
 
Hacked with machetes until they were Dead,  
their blotted Corpses chocked the river and turned it red.  
 
One hundred thousand Men, Women, and Children, now two,  
it's just another Tribal War there's nothing we can do.  
 
Three hundred thousand Butchered Tutsi soon became four,  
then five hundred thousand, and five hundred thousand more.  
 
True believers in the Son of Holy Virgin Mary,  
all alone the Colonial Cross they had to carry.  
 
Now you will not find them under Tombstones in some Quaint Cemetery,  
they are Mummies in the Churches where they had sought out Sanctuary.  
 
The U.N. would have stayed and saved them I Truly do Believe,  
if only they had been more like Ward, June, Wally and the Beav.  
 
So stay tuned to Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy,  
and block the P.B.S. channel from your T.V.,  
or you may find yourself like me,  
DAMMING ALL THE GLOBAL POWERS THAT LET IT BE  
 
 
 
I recently found this poem in an old note book.  
I wrote it in 1997 after having watched the program.  
To this I day I can remember being Dumbstruck,  Grief-Stricken, with an Anger in My Soul that this Genocide was allowed to happen. I felt then and now that all  
Humanity should hang their heads in Shame, Myself Included.