My salute to post-Westgate blood donors

Love after Westgate

I feared we might become a bunkered state,
a plastic nation with resin for blood.

We chose instead, to let our veins.
Running full throttle, we bled.

They stole some of our blood.
But we gave the rest willingly:

rivers of humans choosing to suffer;

to give birth to a new life, pint by pint.

We loved our injured with our blood
and bled internally for the slain.

This is our testimony; a signature in red.