Through peace we must free peace

While diving for cover
I lost a pen in the street
As I happened to be
In the wrong place
At the wrong time

My Pen found itself lying
Beside a hand grenade
The two started talking
“Your name...” said the Pen
“A Bomb, but call me F1, and you?
“PEN but call me BIG”

BIG started the conversation

“You look alien in Somalia, Bomb
You are not grown in here as a crop
Nor manufactured in the factories
Tell me how you did come to Somalia"

Bomb grinned sarcastically, saying
“The two of us, you are an alien”, adding
Let’s check the first ten pedestrians
Passing this dusty rubbish-strewn street
We compare bomb carriers VS pen carriers”
“That sounds good" said the PEN, hoping
That people carry more pens than bombs

Nine had passed with F1slung down their belts
The tenth passerby was a Somali poet and writer
His name was Abdi-Noor Mohamed
He himself had not been carrying a pen
As he had lost his pen in the fateful scurry
He was there to look for his lost pen

PEN saw its owner before he had seen it
“Abdi-Noor” Shouted PEN “ Abdi, I’m here”
But PEN was silenced with a shshshsh
“Don’t call Abdi-Noor or else I explode
His writes are a menace to our survival
His poems are a mouthpiece of peace action

PEN never made any more moves to shout
I am a poet whose pen has been kidnapped
It is my duty to release the hostage
Would you join me?