The show must go on.
In Dnipro.
In a shelter near the theatre.
In former student accommodation.
A group of.
Four elderly women.
Reminisce about the homes.
They’ve left behind.
The eighty-seven-year-old.
Says they arrived.
With nothing.
But have been provided.
With shoes.
Clothes and food.
She says they’ve been.
Treated well.
“It’s good to be a guest.
But its better to be at home.”
“It’s good to be a guest.
But its better to be at home.”
Her home is now.
In ‘orcs’-occupied territory.
All four women want.
Negotiations for peace.
The show must go on.
In Dnipro.
In a shelter near the theatre.
In former student accommodation.
A group of.
Four elderly women.
Reminisce about the homes.
They’ve left behind.
But she, 89, says.
She doesn’t know.
How either side.
Will be able to.
“Look into the eyes.
Of each other.
After the sheer hell.
They’ve committed”.
She adds:
“It’s already clear.
No one will win militarily.
That is why we need negotiations.”
The show must go on.
In Dnipro.
In a shelter near the theatre.
In former student accommodation.
A group of.
Four elderly women.
Reminisce about the homes.
They’ve left behind.
*Because I read “Can Ukraine face another year of war?” by Jonathan Beale on 30 Dec 2024, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, including a story of Valentyna and Mariia.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
