This poem is about children in conflict around the World, these are children too young to have any real concept of what they are involved in or why. It is perhaps one of my saddest poems.
 |
| Leaves photographed Summer 2008 |
Blank and calm
Children’s small hands
Raise Kalashnikovs
Children's thin fingers
Squeeze their triggers
Flying hot metal
Rips flesh
Breaks bones
Gunfire drowns out the screaming
Hatred drowns out the screaming
Closed minds drown out the screaming
Death drowns out the screaming
Smoke curls and drifts
Dust and ash settle
Dead eyes stare
The dead eyes ask
Why?
Children’s small hands
Lower Kalashnikovs
Rub sweat from their eyes
Eyes that can’t cry
Eyes that have seen
Too much
Eyes that have
No answers
Eyes that see
No questions
And the dead eyes ask
Why?
No comments:
Post a Comment