Dili

City streets covered in

Stones and

Dirt and

Motorbikes and

Rubbish.
Might as well be called the city of rubble

Shows how they can’t let go of the past

Or won’t.
The children grow up playing in these rubble streets

A reminder of their freedom.
Chickens and

Pigs and

Dogs

Roam free

They are not bound to any chain

A symbol of independence.
The old uncles and aunties

The pain is visible in their glossed eyes

Their pain is overwhelming

Holding onto the past

The future,

So far away.
They look at me

Another malae

They wonder if I care

They wonder if I know the pain they endured,

The pain they endure

I thought I did

Now I wonder.