Ramalla

Today I admit , everythings not right with the world. I have a friend somewhere in the middle east trying to do her best for human rights abuses in Palestine. I wrote her a poem before she left. We'd been getting close, ever since she showed up at my party one time in Brixton I knew I wanted her. We got quite close, in fact we almost had a relationship but I screwed it up. I don't regret doing it, I am just thankful that I managed to leave 'the hateful place', but it is a shame. I dont think she even wants to be friends. She invited me to her leaving do, I turned up with Press my drinking buddy, and I remember we stood by the bar like drunken demons looking for trouble. She hardly spoke to me, when I approached her, her (twin?) sister told me - ' that R@*@ has moved on' and something to the effect that she doesnt need my kind of hassle.
So I drank with Press and Danced, the night became a whirl of music and heat.
Stumbling out of the club in the morning the sky was that muted blue it gets just before the sun rises. The very same colour of her skirt ,I caught a glimpse of it as she dashed to a (car, taxi?) to catch her plane. That was the last time I saw her before she went to Ramalla. I don't know if she's back. She doesnt answer my calls.
Fair enough, I just hopes she makes a difference.