Walking under the station canopy
the evening air cool and crisp
a normal end, to a pretty normal day
the sun newly set, stilll a glow in the sky
Brighton at it's most beautiful,
the view down the hill is sublime.
But something catches my eye,
by the gate on the ground,
lie some small branches and leaves...
Shaped into letters that spell out a name
I stop and I turn my curiosity complete.
The name jumps off the pavement
"RACHEL CORRIE R.I.P."
around it are small flyers with her smiling face.
The pictures mingle amongst the leaves
like lonely reminders of things we should not forget.
A political statement that perfectly sums up
a young life now lost under a bulldozer's blade.
With kindness in her heart she sought to help,
a brutalised people devoid of hope.
Her warmth and her smile brought love to their hearts
her bright orange jacket was a beacon of light.
The dark souls who destroyed her,
so callous and cruel.
They hide behind lies
in their suits and their smiles:
always the victim, always the innocent.
They justify murder and they seem not to care.
They ran over Rachel in a big yellow Cat,
remorseless and violent as they weave their wicked web.
