World Humanitarian Day celeberation: Poem by Njoke Raissa

Let The Queen Wear The Crown.
By Njoke-T Raisa. N

She finds warmth in the coldest weather
And under bridges and leaking rooves she makes a home
Not for herself, but for the wounded and the hopeless
She tirelessly hops from tent to tent every night to put people to sleep.
Her sacrifice knows no bounds, she lives for the people
Her bulletproof is a brave heart

She has given her all and a whole lot more
Fearlessness is her maiden name
Ask Harriet Tubman she’ll tell you it takes guts for a one-time slave to become the best-known underground railroad conductor, guiding hundreds and hundreds of slaves to freedom.
What about Mother Theresa?? Her courage and determination, drive, resilience knew no rest

That woman never shivered at the sight of HIV, leprosy and tuberculosis
Let the queen wear the crown, break out of the shells of being victims and wear the garment of a survivor.

When it is dusky over the world, her torchlight of bravery lights the way
Her courage stomps in and puts suffering in chains.
Child of war where do you belong??
We belong on the bosoms of strange women who lay our heads to sleep on their shoulders.
We belong in the tents built by some women bubbling in selflessness.
Last night they cleaned up my puke and for the very first time in a long time I wore a smile.
When fear grips you, when hopelessness finds its spot in your heart, remember a woman
Mother of humanity, mother of soul
Mother of humanity, you are made of gold
Her gravestone is a monument.

Let the Queen wear the crown and sit on the throne.
Only the brave can spend their lives sleeping on thin mattresses, surrounded by people whose lives depend on them.
A queen is the story
A queen is a warrior with the strongest shield
She responds to needs in the darkest hours

A queen is a woman who scars her skin while cleaning the wounds of others
With every hardship and distress the world gives her, she creates a mosaic that the universe admires
Every scar on her skin tells a story
Not even her race stops her from making her mark, she builds bridges and breaks down walls.
Let the world arise and hail her strength

Truth be told she can’t play superwoman if she is not a superwoman
Around a fireplace they huddle, listening to her stories, as she plants hope, falling  asleep on a bed of peace.
On the horses of bravery, she rides, setting fire to the bushes where the evil eyes of fear hide.
I bow down to the Queen as she makes her way through, her devotion deserves respect.
Let the Queen wear the crown.
Her contributions permeates from generation down to generations.
I know Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton and the Sisters of Charity left their footprints in the sands of time.
Let the Queen wear the crown, the universe is her kingdom

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