El Mozote was a small village in Central America and it was attacked by their own soldiers. The soldiers killed the people in the village and left their bodies there to rot until later were picked up by rescued family members. The women and kids were crying for their help. My poem is through the eyes of a mother who is locked in her own home afraid of what might happen next, and begging for mercy to let her children survive.
"save my children not my life"
No one deserved to die in that town,
how can you be so cruel when you hear the sound,
the people begging to be found.
El Mozote attacked,
20 houses, where is there to hide,
stop with the questions we don't know who guerillas are,
how ‘bout let us live and move along.
Locked in my own home,
knowing my family and I are about to die,
save my children not my life.
Please bury me before you go,
don't let the wind hit my bloody veins,
I don't deserve to be left like this to explode.
Only one person left alive,
save yourself keep us in your memory,
and there we will always be alive.