Poem #3

Storyteller

by Venesa Devi

Those eyes,

they tell stories,

of torture and of pain,

of death and of blood.

That broken smile,

they bring memories,

of family and of friends,

of love and of life.

I don't know your name,

I  don't know your life,

I don't know you.

Were you a dreamer like me?

Were you a lover of seas?

You see,

you're a mystery.

Yet I know you well

in my fantasies,

as if I am part of your memory,

as if we are in the same century.

but you see,

You were long gone before me.

You're just a forgotten history.

One of the many faces I see,

in the remains of a torture chamber of the Khmer Rouge,

just another untold story.

Now you see,

I will tell your story,

your misery,

will never again be a mystery.

Let the people hear and see,

the truth about you written by me,

of every tears and every cries,

of every wound and every bruise,

of the blood and the body.

For it could even happen to me or my family,

maybe we were lucky,

but tomorrow is still a mystery,

might be my time for the pain and the misery,

maybe then there'll be another 'me',

who will write another untold story.

You see,

you might be just a fantasy,

in the mind of a writter wannabe,

but you have to trust me,

I'll write your story,

beautifully.