Poem From Malala (To The Men Who Tried To Assassinate Her in Pakistan)

                                                                                              Imagine my death,

                                                                          every reminder of my assassination

                                                             would hurt the blood

                                                                                              in your stupid hands,

                                                            I will make sound

                                         with all that blood

                                                                       noise the night, until the country

                                                   invents a new condition

                                                   of weather, where clouds

                                             the shape of Pakistan

                                        are not as high and out            of   reach 
                                        as a girls education -

                                                                  every woman

                                      under this sky  will begin to rise -                      

                            my voice will shoot every bolt of my pain

                       to un-secret my death. When it rains

                                          it is the sound of my bones       

                                                          bursting

                                                            and the sky turning

                                    grey and cold as your bullet in my face,

   and the dirt in the black ground growing teeth

   and you will be sorry to take away    the life of books

                                      and the life of me,

                  a little girl who just wanted school.

          

You should have kept the blood

    warm    in my feet,

       if you did not want me  to    carry   my     story

across the desert                          the border

                               the ocean

                                                    as a book you cannot burn.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malala_Yousafzai