In the memory of the all the victims of the Boeing 737 max-8 crush in ethiopia

Heres a poem i wrote about the Rwandan genocide. To remember, unite and renew the past

I looked around and i saw blood. Blood on the walls, blood on my hands, blood on her. Who is she? For that i will answer with a story. Not just an ordinary story. A story of how a girl changed the life of an assassin and here is how it begins...

It is my first story hence short. I just hope u like it